


The Highwayman

by Arrowsbane



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Attempted Kidnapping, Bar Room Brawl, Disney References, Drama, Drinking, F/M, Female Harry, Fluff, Hair Braiding, Hangover, Hogwarts Letters Can Be Creepy, Lucid Dreaming, Memory Loss, Minor Character Death, Nori is freaked out by Gringotts, Self-Defense, Snakes, Snow White gets bashed, Steve the Australian snake is amazing., The letter is ignored, World Hopping, accidental magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2015-04-16
Packaged: 2018-03-16 09:09:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 33,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3482564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arrowsbane/pseuds/Arrowsbane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Hannah is only 6 years old the first time she meets the strange man with the funny hair. Only, he's not really tall enough to be a man - not like Uncle Vernon is. He's barely 5 foot tall, but later she decides that it's okay because he's nice, and nobody is ever nice to her."</p><p>In which there is magic in dreams. Hannah Potter tried to be good, she really did. In the end it took a Dwarf from middle Earth to teach her that she wasn't doing anything wrong to begin with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

* * *

Dreams are an odd thing. Anything can happen. You could save the world, fall in love – You might even make a friend. But the most special dreams of all are the ones that aren't quite so imaginary – the ones that might be real.

Hannah is only six years old the first time she meets the strange man with the funny hair. Only, he's not really tall enough to be a man - not really, not like Uncle Vernon is. He's barely five foot tall, but later she decides that it's okay because he's nice, and nobody is ever nice to her.

She's crying because she doesn't know where she is, and she's scared. The last thing she can remember is going to sleep in her bed in the cupboard under the stairs. Oh, she'll be in so much trouble – she's not supposed to wander off. The man steps forward, and she flinches - Uncle Vernon doesn't like it when she cries, and she thinks that the strange man won't either. But then he's in front of her, bending down and wrapping her in his arms and he's telling her not to cry, switching back and forth between English and another language.

He's warm and kind and brushing away her tears, and mumbling to her in this strange language. It sounds harsh and unforgiving, strange and foreign, but it's the way he speaks it that makes her relax, like he thinks he's holding something made of glass, something easily broken – and in a way, he is. It's in this moment that she realizes that she's not alone. So she burrows into his warmth, eyes closed tight; her little hands are scrabbling for a hold on his strange and rigid shirt. He sings to her in this other language, and suddenly it feels like it makes sense. It's not scary at all, it's just strong, and Hannah wants to be strong more than anything. She wants to not be afraid, so she listens, and then she sleeps.

When she wakes up in the morning, she's back in her cupboard under the stairs, and she is alone. The nice man is gone, and she thinks that it was just a strange dream. Oh, but it was a nice dream.

As time passes, it becomes little more than a memory, fading into just one more of those strange things that she can't explain; but she never forgets the sound of his voice singing her to sleep, and sometimes, when she's lonely, she catches herself humming the tune to herself and she smiles.

* * *

He's only eighty-five when the first dream happens – battle ready, and of age, but still barely into his adulthood. One minute he's drifting off to sleep after a long lecture from Dori about his bad habits and lawless ways, and the next – he's staring at a tiny man-child.

 _Boy or girl?_ He thinks to himself, utterly baffled. At that age it seems, gender is hard to tell, and in this case, it's even harder because the child is a tiny thing dressed in clothes far too big, its hair is short and unkempt – barely reaching its shoulder blades in knotted snarls. It's crying, he realizes, eyeing the tiny face that is screwed up in a wail, bright green eyes filled with tears. In that moment all he can see is his little brother Ori, crying as they bury their mother.

He steps forward and the child flinches, shying away from him instinctively and he feels his heart clench. No child should fear like this, not even a child of man. He is a Dwarf, and they value children highly due to the low birthrate of their kind. Every child should be prized, but this one looks like it has been thrown away like an unwanted pup.

Slowly and carefully, he lifts the child into his arms and holds it close, whispering to it in Westeron, and then later in his own language – Khuzdul, the language of the Dwarrow. Normally the tongue of his people is guarded jealously, and kept amongst only those who are born to the stone, but Nori knows the child is too young to really remember it. The only lullaby's he knows are in Khuzdul – ones that he has heard Dori sing to Ori hundreds of times before. The Westeron translations make little sense anyway, and so when he sings, he does so in Khuzdul.

Tiny hands pull at his shirt as the child curls in closer to the warmth of his chest and Nori feels strange all of a sudden because this tiny creature doesn't care that he steals from people, or that he lies and cheats, and it's a relief. It's a relief to not be judged for doing what you need to make sure your little brother can be warm at night and eat properly, because no matter what Dori says, they're barely surviving as it is. So he sings to the child, rocking it steadily the way he's seen Dori do when Ori has a nightmare, the way he remembers his mother rocking him, and slowly the child drifts off to sleep.

He sits there a while, holding this tiny bundle with its too-large clothes and tangled hair, and he knows he'll never admit it, but he likes feeling needed, he likes being wanted, and one day he wants to do this again – he wants a family of his own. But until then, he'll keep this one safe.

When Nori wakes up, it's to the clatter of Dori cooking breakfast, and the patter of Ori hurrying through their home. He lies there for a few hazy moments, remembering the strange dream where he comforted a crying child. But then he has to get up and get on with the day, so he shoves the memory to the back of his mind and does what he does best. He lies and cheats and steals. He makes sure Ori has the things he needs and that Dori never has to anything dishonorable, and late at night, he remembers what it feels like to be wanted, and he smiles.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that this fic was not directly inspired by Tsume Yuik's "This Dream's on Me". However, it did spark the memory that contributed to it.  
> The Inspiration for this fic was Alfred Noyes poem "The Highwayman" and a very long shower.


	2. Eight

The next time she dreams of the strange man, Hannah is eight. His hair is still just as ridiculous as last time, and she almost doesn't recognize him at first. Then she remembers the strange man who held her while she cried, and she relaxes. She tugs nervously on one of the loose pigtails that she has taken to wearing.

 _Who are you?_ She wants to ask, but keeps quiet. "Don't ask questions" is a big rule for her. Aunt Petunia doesn't like questions, Uncle Vernon doesn't either. The strange man watches her lazily; he is curious, but there is no menace in his eyes. Hannah edges closer, his hair is really pretty and she wants to touch it, but she doesn't.

The strange man tilts his head to the side, considering her tiny form – Even at eight, she is still much smaller than she should be. The years of neglect and malnutrition have taken an effect on her. She isn't abused, but she isn't loved either. She exists, and that is enough in her guardian's eyes. When people ask why she is so small, it is explained away. ' _She doesn't eat what she's given.'_ they say, ' _Her mother was the same – small bones, sickly,'_ they tell the neighbors, ' _nothing we can do.'_

But Hannah knows different. She knows that they never wanted her. She knows that she's small because she doesn't get enough food; not enough protein and vitamins. It’s why she's so pale too. It’s why her hair breaks easily and her nails are so thin. Hannah fidgets, twisting her hands. _Who is this person?_

* * *

Nori watches the little girl carefully. Unlike last time, it's a bit more obviously that she is a girl. Her hair is longer and pulled into two loose pigtails that are held by old, mismatched hair ties. One is black like her hair, and the other red. Her clothes are different, but still too big, and he thinks to himself – _It's been two years, shouldn't she be bigger?_

He knows that the children of men grow faster than those of his own kind. She should be several inches taller, but then she moves, and her shirt pulls upwards for a moment and he sees just how thin she is – can see her ribcage, and then he knows the truth. She might live with other people, but she is an orphan. No parent would stand by and allow this. His heart sinks. _This is what might have happened to Ori…_

The little girl shifts her weight from foot to foot and idly twists her fingers together like knots and he makes up his mind. He offers her his hand, and after a short moment and a little hesitation, she takes it – allows herself to be pulled into his lap and be held in a warm embrace. Allows him to card his fingers through her hair and tie her pigtails in a much neater fashion. She closes her eyes and burrows into him once again, clearly desperate for comfort of any kind.

 _She shouldn't be like this – somebody should have taught her to be wary of strangers_ Nori thinks, and then he hears her small voice – tiny, sleepy and soft, the kind of noise a kitten might make.

"I thought this was just a dream."

Nori blinks.

"So did I." He tells her.

* * *

It's another four months before he meets her again, and this time he learns her name.

"Im Hannah." She says shyly, snuggled against his chest, and he smiles.

"That's a pretty name. 'm Nori." He tells her, and she looks up at him.

"No-ri… Nooorrr-iii." She sounds out the name, "That's a strange name." She tells him, and he laughs.

* * *

More time passes and by now Hannah is comfortable enough with his presence that she cling to his legs when she first sees him, pulling on his breeches until he sits and she can climb into his lap and play with his beard. The first time she does this his eyes go wide and his funny eyebrows shoot up, but he does not stop her.

She likes the strange beads – they're shiny, and Hannah likes shiny things. She has a lot of shiny things hidden away in her cupboard: a piece of tinsel that came loose from the Christmas tree the Dursley's had last winter, a shiny stone she found in the park, the back of an earring that was caught in the carpet at school, a piece of worn glass she found in the river that trickles down past the end of the neighborhood. She's like a little magpie, but she can't help it – Dudley has lots of nice things, so why shouldn't she have little things too? She's a good girl, isn't she?

"Nori?" She asks in a quiet voice, fingers still tangled in his beard.

"Yes?" He answers, his voice low and just a little gruff.

"Why _do_ you have beads in your beard?" Nori blinks, looking down at the small girl.

"They tell people who I am, who me family is, where I’ve been. Things like tha’." He explains slowly, not telling her that they also mark him as both a bastard and a troublemaker – because everybody knows what side of the sheets his family is from.

"Nori, do you think I could have beads like yours one day?" She asks, looking down at her bare toes, which are curled into the warmth of his lap.

"I s’pose it depends Hana," He tells her, a wry smile playing about on his face. "On what ye’ do in yer life."

"Why do you call me that?" Hannah frowns confused. He has been using that name for at least three visits now. "My name is Hannah. Hah-nah." She says, nodding her head firmly, and Nori laughs.

"Because Hana is what you’d be called if you lived among my people." And that is all he will say on the matter. Later, when Hannah is alone in her cupboard again she decides that she quite likes the name he uses. It's special; nobody has ever given her a nickname before.

* * *

Nori isn't quite sure what to make of Hana at first, but once she gets over her initial shyness he decides she's adorable. He'll deny it if anybody asks him though – He's a Dwarf and they don't use words like 'adorable'.

She's small, and has a habit of tucking her cold toes into the crook of his knee, and she certainly isn't afraid to touch his hair – carding her tiny fingers through it in the same way Ori does when he's sleepy and Dori is working late. Her hair frequently comes undone, and it's all he can do to stop himself from twisting it into dwarven braids that he knows will hold better.

She's curious, asking about everything and anything - and don't think he hasn't seen her eyeing his beads with that covetous little look in her eyes. He knows she likes shiny things, and it hurts when he admits to himself that he knows _why_ she likes shiny things because it's the same reason that he does… well, barring the fact that all Dwarrow like shiny things. It's because when you don't have much, you can't help but long for what other people have. You can't help but wish you were on a more even playing field.

Nori sighs; maybe one day he'll make some beads for her to wear – in a strictly platonic way of course. Then he can stop watching her fingers like a hawk. He doesn't think she'd steal from him, not on purpose, but he knows how easy it can be to hold onto something and honestly forget to let go.

* * *

Hana tries hard to braid her hair like Nori's. His hair always looks so cool. It's a really pretty shade of red, which for some reason makes her feel safe, and it’s all twisted tight into the pretty shiny beads. Even his eyebrows are somehow braided. The parts of his hair that are left loose spring wildly, which makes the braids even more awesome because that means they're strong enough to tame his hair – not like Hana's. No matter how hard she tries her hair always comes loose.

Hana grumbles before finally deciding to try less hair – to make little braids. She's seen the girls in her class at school do this, so maybe she needs to do what they do and start small.

Smaller braids are easier she decides and promptly does a dozen of them as best she can. They're lopsided and twisted and she has to tie them off with loose threads from her jeans which are fraying at the hems, but she manages alright. When she's done she feels really proud of herself for managing all by herself.

But then she gets chased up a tree by Aunt Marge's dog Ripper because she accidentally stood on his foot. She's stuck there until after midnight and by the time she stumbles into bed she's forgotten all about her new braids and spends the night curled in Nori's lap asking him if it's mean to want to poison dogs. It's not her fault she stood on him anyway – she was clearing the table and the stupid dog was trying to get at the scraps of gravy that still coated the plates.

* * *

It isn't until the night he catches sight of the lopsided braids hidden in amongst her tangled hair that he realizes what she's trying to do. Without any real role models in her life, she's imprinted on him and is trying to mimic him. Maybe it’s because she's scared and needs to feel reassurance, maybe it's because she's seen other children mimicking their siblings or family members. Maybe she just really likes his hair.

It doesn't matter what the reason is, Nori knows that if he leaves this unchecked it'll slowly drive him mad. How long would it be until she found beads to mimic him? Wearily he decides that he'll have to teach her how to braid her hair properly lest she end up copying his braids. Her parents were most likely married at the very least.

It's with that thought running through his head that he pulls out his whittling knife and some rowan wood he'd been saving – it’s not silver or anything fancy, but she's still a child and so silver beads would be inappropriate. Copper is used for children, as is wood, but he doesn't have any copper at the moment which is a shame because it would look lovely woven into Hana's dark locks.

Silver isn't used until a dwarf has either accomplished something worth talking about, or is of age and gold is usually reserved for those of a higher bloodline like royalty, or those descending from a noble house. In other words, his brothers could wear gold, but that'd more than likely cause trouble because of how their line began. Nobody really likes to think about the children that come from a royal messing around, or their descendants. It's better for everyone involved if he and his brothers stick to silver.

After a few moments he decides he'll make three beads. Good things come in Threes – His Amâd always used to say that, and she swore it was because she had been blessed with three fine sons, pointedly ignoring his thieving tendencies. Three is a good number he thinks as he begins to carve.

* * *

That night, when Hana is cuddled up to him once more (He's actually begun to sit down before she can get within 3 feet of him now, and is ever-thankful that Bofur doesn't know about this because he knows the miner would spend a good three weeks minimum of teasing him about how she has him trained like a dog.) Nori fiddles with her hair absentmindedly, and says:

"Y’know how ye’ wanted to know if yeh would ever have beads for ye’ hair?" He keeps his tone casual, but Hana's head perks up in a flash all the same.

"Yeah?" Her excitement is palpable.

"Well, don't get too excited –" He starts, but the eager eight (almost nine!) year old interrupts him.

"I get to have beads?" She yelps, practically vibrating with joy, and Nori has to stifle a chuckle.

"These are just wooden," He tells her, reaching inside a picket for them. They're lovely little things, finely carved from Rowan wood, for protection, expression and connection; finely engraved with runes. But that doesn't stop the little girl from frowning.

"But yours are silver?" There is an audible pout in her words, and this time Nori does chuckle.

"Mine are silver because I'm an adult. Silver is for grownups or people who’ve managed special deeds. Little children like you get wood or copper, and I didn't have any copper when I made these." He tells her and she tilts her head to the side.

"But if ye’ don't want them…" He starts to put them away, using a trick he's used on Ori many a time.

"I want them!" She declares practically tackling him in order to prise them out of his hand, and he has to push at her gently in order to be able to sit back up.

"Alright, alright." He hands them to her and watches as she looks closely at each bead.

"Nori…" Her voice is quiet.

"Yes Hana?" He answers, waiting for the inevitable request.

"Will you show me how to put these in?" Nori smiles and tugs lightly on her hair.

"Alright, but first ye’ need to learn how to braid properly." He says, grinning as she protests that she knows how to braid. He undoes her knotted little messes that she calls braids and starts combing her hair, knowing that she isn't really upset. He can see that little smile, even if she is trying her hardest to glare at him. He's humming he realizes as he starts to twist the strands into the first braid, and that's okay, because he knows she won't tell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: In the American version, Harry treads on Ripper's tail, but in the British version he treads on his paw. I happen to be British, even if I do tend to use American spelling – I use Brit curse words too. Did you know that most American teachers have no clue what you’re saying if you use Brit terminology? The day I got away with calling somebody a wanker in front of the whole class will be forever stuck in my mind. :D
> 
> I suppose I should begin by saying thankyou for all the support I received in the past few days. The sheer number of response this has garnered literally blew me away – easily triple the amount I would normally receive in a year on anything else I've written. It's a real push to keep working – I adore every single one of you already. I should tell you that this is completely new to me – I have never written anything like this before, never written in the Present Tense before.
> 
> I have neither a GCSE in English, nor my diploma having been forced to drop out of High School halfway through my Senior year due to health problems. I would appreciate some help regarding my superfluous use of comma's. At some point, I would very much like to have a Beta in this – preferably somebody I can IM through Skype which is my usual medium for keeping in contact with friends. 
> 
> As for updates – I'm afraid I don't write in a strictly linear style. Due to this you will find that the Pre-Hogwarts arc might be a little slower than I had originally anticipated, and that during the Hogwarts Arc, chapters may come quickly then slow or vice versa due to the misc scenes. I am doing my best to try and balance Hana's time in Hogwarts with scenes from Middle Earth featuring Nori's daily life, and scenes in which they share during the Dreaming.
> 
> I have already amassed 4,000 words of miscellaneous scenes that will be used in later chapters ie. scenes that needed to be written before I forgot them. Among them are several self-given prompts and some plans for a one-shot that will be attached to the AU, or used as an interlude. One of my friends (Dotty, I mean you.) is very attached to Fíli and Kíli, and as such they will make several appearances.
> 
> A final note I would like to add is that I have a Timeline written out, some of which is kept to Tolkein's verse, but I had to take some liberties thanks to the movies – I simple can't visualize Thorin as being older than Balin, and I have obviously taken a good 25 years off of Nori's age – even though they don't give him one. Smaug's attack on Erebor has been delayed by a number of years and the Battle of Azanulbizar was delayed by 5 years. I have assigned Dori, Nori, Ori, Bofur, Bifur and Bombur birthdates, and taken some liberties with Dís and Frerin's birthdates as well – oh, and I made Balin about 10 years older than in the books too. 
> 
> A copy of the Timeline will be included as an appendix at the end of the Pre-Hogwarts arc, along with some notes on the ages/lifespans of Dwarrow-kind and various other things that are pertinent to the story.
> 
> Sophia.


	3. Nine

_For Amy, because sometimes good things make the bad days easier._

* * *

Hana is nine now. Summer is in the past and the leaves are already changing color. It means that she is another year older and that a new school year has begun.

She sees Nori more often now too, at least once a month, and their dreams have begun to have recognizable places. Most night she finds herself sitting in what Nori says looks like the main hall of his home, which Hana translates to being both living room and kitchen at the same time.

Over the past few months, Hana has become especially proud of her braids, because the very fact that she wakes up with her hair twisted and tamed means that Nori is real – really real, not just an imaginary friend that she dreamed up to pass the time.

She insists that people call her Hana now, determined to do well at everything she tries, to live up to… Well, nobody really expects anything of her, and all Nori asks is that she take care of herself; but she wants to be worthy of the beads he gave her – even if they aren't shiny silver like his. She decides that she'll do something special, something noteworthy one day; and then Nori will be proud and maybe let her wear silver like him.

She twirls a braid around her finger, rubbing the bead between her thumb and index softly as she thinks back to him saying he didn’t have any copper. She’s never really seen copper before, but she thinks it’s that stuff that the pipes sticking out of the Dursley’s boiler are made of.

Hana never really notices that the bead she’s been fingering has changed both color and constitution, never noticed that its now a lovely red-brown color and is cooler to touch. Nori does, and though he doesn’t say anything, his eyes are immediately drawn to the soft shine of the bead. Its identical to the one he braided into her hair, down to the last rune – there’s only one difference though. This bead is not wood, but copper.

* * *

It is late Injamadrân in Middle Earth, ‘aftharn is over and ‘afdehar is just beginning. Durin’s day is just past, and Nori is sitting in his room repairing a pair of breeches that were torn on his last… excursion. He can hear boisterous voices from the main hall and knows that Ori must have been followed home by the two princelings and their cousin – Gimli wasn’t it?

He’s musing over his last visit with Hana as he carefully stitches the tear shut. He could have asked Dori to do it, Dori would have done a better job, but then he would have had to explain how it happened. There’s no point in lying to Dori, because even though Nori is a very good thief and can charm his way out of many things, he can’t lie to Dori. Either something in his face gives him away, or its just because Dori has known him for his entire life.

He can’t lie to Ori either – but that’s more to do with the fact that Dori will just tell Ori the truth when he isn’t looking and he hates the expression Ori pulls on him when that happens. It’s pitiful and hurt, and why-would-you-lie-to-me-brother? It’s something Nori can’t stand because it’s even worse than disappointment, which is a look he receives from Dori weekly.

There is a loud crash from the kitchen, and Nori is on his feet and through the door in seconds. He practically flies into the main hall and almost trips over his own feet in surprise.

A red-haired dwarfling is hanging upside down from the ceiling, a rope around his foot, and Nori suddenly realizes where his missing snare was. He had been wondering where he’d left it – looks like Dori put it to good use.

Ori is gaping in shock from his seat at the table where they eat, and the two princelings have practically fallen over each other in what looks like an attempt to back pedal from where they were previously standing. Nori can’t help it, the mirth bubbles up and soon he is outright laughing at the spectacle they make. There is another grumble and a set of rather filthy word spews from the suspended dwarf that his mother would surely wash his mouth out with soap for.

Finally Nori is able to stop laughing for long enough to flick a knife at the rope, which sends its captive crashing to the floor.

“Just so ye’ know, Dori moved the cookie jar last week. Its hidden in the box marked ‘carrots’.” Nori says, still grinning widely at the mess as he walks out of the room and leaves them to it.

He’s almost back in his room when he hears the princes begin to laugh.

“Ye’ should have seen the look on yeh _face_ Gimli!” One of them wheezes out, and then Nori can’t hear them anymore. He’s more interested in finding out where that blasted needle went.

* * *

She is walking home from school when it happens. Aunt Petunia drives Dudley home every day, but she says Hana has to walk. Hana doesn't mind though. She likes walking – it means she can pretend that she is off on adventures, slaying monsters and rescuing people and doing all sorts of things that are fun. She calls it practice, because one day she will do these things for real. She's so caught up in what she's doing that she doesn't realize she's being followed.

About halfway between the school and home, there is this super cool little area of woodland and Hana loves it there. Her favorite thing to do is climb the trees and pretend they can hear her as she tells them everything she has done that day, because Nori has told her about the living trees that are called Ents, and are the children of the Green Lady. Hana thinks it sounds so cool, _trees_ that are _alive_.

This afternoon is no different, and so Hana ducks under the branches and weaves her way into the forest with her trusty sword at her side (in actuality it is a wooden stick she picked up from the ground). She slays bandit and orc alike and charges at bushes and patches of nettles, furiously whacking at them with her 'sword'. She doesn't see the man behind her – doesn't realize he's there until she is lifted off the ground with a hand clamped over her mouth and it’s too late to scream.

She kicks and squirms and wriggles desperately as the stranger carries her through the forest, but the grip is firm and she is beginning to panic.

"Let me go!" She thinks, screaming inside her head. "Let _me_ _GO!_ "

And miraculously – he does. Well, actually he's flung backwards so hard and so sudden that he drops her in surprise. As soon as she hits the ground, she is off – running as hard and fast as she can, not stopping to question how or what just happened. She doesn't look back. Maybe, if she had, she would have seen him lying on the ground, head at an unnatural angle. It's a good thing she doesn't though, because she'll have enough bad dreams without knowing that she's killed a man.

That night, she curls up in Nori's lap and asks him to teach her to fight. She tells him everything and watches as his face grows darker, can feel his arms tighten around her, holding her close.

 _He will_ , he promises her. He'll teach her how to break a man's arm and how to throw knives. He’ll teach her how to pick locks and sniff out secrets; how to lie convincingly and how to set snares. He'll teach her everything he knows, every last dirty trick and more. As long as it means that she is safe. Nori doesn’t lie to himself anymore, he knows that she has him wrapped around her pinky finger, and he honestly doesn’t care.

* * *

She’s learning how to throw knives today, and so far, she’s doing okay. She hasn’t hit him, which is good because he’s not ready to test out whether physical damage caused here will also cross over to his waking life.

Hana is pouting as he demonstrates, because his blows sink deeply into the wood with careful, rhythmic thunks and hers barely scratch the wooden post, which has appeared in the dream world as sure as it exists in Nori’s own home .

“Try again.” He tells her, hiding a wry smile. As mature as she tries to be, all children are easily frustrated when they cannot master a new skill instantly. She huffs angrily, getting a little sloppy and then correcting herself as she flings knife after knife at the post.

Finally, Hana lets out a yowl of frustration as she downright _hurls_ the knife in her hand at the post. Every time before this the knife has made a small impression, and then fallen to the floor with a clatter. This time though, the knife whistles _through_ the solid wood post which lets out an almighty crack and splits. Nori almost drops his own knives in shock.

“How in Mahal’s name did yeh manage tha’?” He wonders out loud, trying not to gape (although he’s failing miserably) at the mess of wood that used to be a solid post. The knife had cut through it like butter and the top of the once-solid-post is not cracked in two.

“I don’t know. I just really, _really_ wanted it to go through the target.” She says, just as baffled as he is. When he tries, and does he ever, he finds that he is unable to replicate what she did with sheer willpower. He can’t make heads or tails of it, because as far as they’ve been able to tell, the laws of physics do apply here – you’d best believe that he’s been testing them. Nori shakes his head, sighs, and lets it go. He knows that if he doesn’t, Hana will start sulking, and he _did_ promise to teach her how to flick her wrist ‘just-so’ in a way that will send the knives in a different way than ones opponent would expect. So he does, and the smile Hana gives him when she manages it for the first time is brighter than a thousand suns.

* * *

It is early spring when they discover that the dreams affect their daily lives, and it is the day Nori begins to teach Hana his language. It’s unheard of for non-dwarrow to learn Khuzdul, but by now Nori has pretty much thrown tradition out the window. He’s the only one taking any interest in her life and so in his mind, she is essentially growing up to be a dwarf. She’s certainly more dwarf than human in her personality already – she’s stubborn as rock and loyal as any he’s met, proud, as serious-minded as any child can be. She’s got a brilliant sense of humor; a firm sense of what is fair, and don’t get him started on her attraction to anything shiny.

Nori will never admit it to her, but the fact that her attacker never came after her a second time tells him that he was either hurt badly, or possibly even killed. Neither of them could figure out quite what had happened, but Nori is beginning to suspect that Hana is not as completely normal as she thinks.

She’s done and said enough things in the past year and a half that he’s begun to notice a pattern. The bead suddenly changing into copper, the way her attacker was suddenly torn away from her, that thing with the knife, and then there are the dreams themselves. Dwarrow have been known to have far-seeing dreams before, it’s a left-over piece of magic from when they were forged by Aulë– but Hana is not a Dwarrow, no matter her temperament, so that means there has to be magic in her. So Nori ignores convention and teaches her Khuzdul – he never was one much for rules anyway.

The first word she learns is 'Ubnar' because it means ‘Survivor’, and that is what she is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had somebody ask me what the difference in pronunciation was for Hana's name, so I'll include it here. Hann-ah versus Hahn-a.  
> Khuzdul and Dwarrow calendar sourced from the Dwarrow Scholar. “The Dwarven Calendar is a lunar calendar, each month starting on a new moon. 7 out of 19 years have 13 months (13 month year: "fantêrâs" ), while the rest have 12 months (12 month year: "bashkêrâs" ).”  
> In other words, it does not match up to Earth’s yearly schedule, so… for the sake of my sanity please assume that magic is involved and that the time difference between dimensions can be explained like daylight savings time: ie. Middle Earth runs slightly faster than Earth, which is one of the many reasons Hana and Nori do not meet each night.  
> • Injamadrân - "leaf time" (Autumn)  
> • ‘aftharn - 13th month of the Dwarrow calendar  
> • ‘afdehar – 1st month of the Dwarrow calendar  
> • “Ubnar” Survivor (person-form) [NOUN SINGULAR - Absolute State] [ʊbnɑr]  
> And we have accidental magic starting to show here. I wasn’t planning on her changing a bead, but I could not resist. :3 I tend to refer to anything silver as 'shiny silver' because Im trying to reinforce the magpie-like tendencies that Hana has. She's no thief, not yet – although Nori will jokingly call her a 'baby thief' later on when he starts teaching her his tricks.  
> When Hana escaped her attacker it was due to accidental magic reacting to her fear. She didn’t kill him with a spell, but the sheer force of slamming into a tree broke the man’s neck. So it was really an accident, but it was still done in self defense. No, I am not currently disclosing whether her attacker was magical or mundane… because I don’t know yet. So sue me. :D


	4. Khajmel

_For Kristina, because your friendship is the greatest gift I could ever receive._

* * *

At ten years of age, Hana is still much shorter than the other girls her age, even after the slight growth spurt she had over the summer. She’s still adjusting to the extra two inches she’s gained and it’s making her feel clumsy and loose-limbed like a newborn foal. She’s lost count of the times she tripped over her own feet and feels like she’s learning how to aim all over again when she practices in the woods with the knives Nori has leant her.

It took a good few months before Hana was able to get the guts up to return to her former safe haven, but now she happily scampers into the trees each afternoon, and the familiar weight of metal blades resting at her hip makes her feel safe. Knowing her attacker is dead helps, the police found his body in the woods a week or so after she had fled home in a panic – nobody knows how he died, other than from a broken neck and it baffled the entire community for weeks. In the end the police decided that he must have slipped or tripped and fallen awkwardly. Hana isn’t so sure, but she won’t be crying over the news of his death – far from it, she feels relieved.

Nori’s been teaching her more Khuzdul. It’s a complicated language, but Hana is clever for her age group and she’s really wants to learn. She mostly learns key words at the moment - Amad and Adad; Nadad, Nadadith, Namad and Namadith; the days of the week, the seasons and months - and isn’t that confusing. Finding out that dwarrow have a different calendar; thirteen months for seven out of nineteen years, and then twelve for the other twelve years? She’s still trying to wrap her head around that, not even sure if that’s twelve years in a row, or if they alternate somehow.

Nori says she has a gift with languages, and the fact that she sees him nearly every night means she gets a chance to practice frequently. He’s started calling her Khajmel, ‘gift of all gifts’, because he believes that of all the people who he could have met in his dreams, she is the most amazing – a gift from Aulë himself. The thought of that makes Hana feel warm inside because he thinks she’s special and precious and she feels loved and wanted.

* * *

She wants to know more about the world that he lives in, it sounds so different from her own. He says that it’s a land called Arda, a land that was created by the deity Ilúvatar, who also created many spirits called Ainur – some of whom became the Valar. Beyond that though, his knowledge is limited to his own race, the children of Aulë, but he promises to learn more so that he can answer her every question.

He tells her that Aulë is a Smith, married to the lady Yavanna, who oversees all that grows within Arda. Impatient, and finding himself unable to wait for Ilúvatar to create the Elves, Aulë created the seven dwarrow, the beginning of their race, to be strong an unyielding; and to pass on his knowledge of forging. He taught them the language of Khuzdul which he created for them. Because the ability to create life did not belong to Aulë, the first dwarrow were unable to act upon any thought that was not his, and were not truly beings of their own right. Aulë had not been granted permission by Ilúvatar to create life, and so even though he had only sought to have other beings to love and to teach, Aulë apologized, and moved to destroy that which he had created, crying as he did so. But miracle of miracles, the dwarrow he had made drew away from the blow – something they should not have been able to do. Ilúvatar interceded and explained to Aulë that he had given the dwarrow souls of their own which allowed them to fear destruction, and accepted the dwarrow as a new race in Arda.

As the Elves had been ordained as the first race to walk Arda, so Ilúvatar set the dwarrow inside mountains to sleep until after the Elves awoke. Each of the seven dwarrow slept inside a mountain with his wife at his side (for Aulë gifted them with wives – possibly out of deference to his own wife), all save Durin I, the father of the Longbeard line, who was the first to wake (alone) inside what would later become Moria. Two others woke in the Blue Mountains and fathered the lines of Broadbeam and Firebeard who resided in Belegost and Nogrod. The other four fathers lay in the east, and fathered the Ironfists, Stiffbeards, Blacklocks and Stonefoots.

Hana listens to the story with wonder on her face as Nori then goes on to explain how he is of the Longbeard clan, and that means he is descended from the first dwarf father. At this, Hana’s eyes seem to grow even bigger, and Nori chuckles. He hopes she’ll keep this innocent wonder for many years to come.

* * *

It’s the last day before the winter holidays and the teacher decides to put a movie on. When the question of what to watch comes up, the boys are outvoted by the sheer volume coming from the girls in the class. Hana doesn’t pay much attention until the videotape is actually inside the battered VHS player, which is perched on a sub-layer of the trolley that the TV sits on, and the title is scrolling across the screen.

_Snow White and the Seven Dwarves._

She frowns. The plural of Dwarf is Dwarrow, not Dwarves. Whoever made this film was obviously as daft as a goldfish.

Hana tolerates the wretched movie with a displeased expression painted across her face, and resists the urge to gag as the other girls squeal and coo over how pretty Snow White is, and how lovely the prince looks. When they finally, and good lord has it been too long already, Hana has to stop herself from letting out a cry of distress.

_What have they done to the dwarrow?_

They’ve made them a laughingstock – shortened them to being smaller than a Hobbit and given them the most ridiculous faces and names. Who ever heard of a dwarf being called Bashful of all things, and _what’s with the_ _hats?_ The only thing they got right was that dwarrow tend to live in family groups – but in mountains for goodness sake, no dwarf would live in a woodland cottage, that’s such an _elf-like_ thing to do. (Yes, Nori has caused her to be a little biased, but did you really expect anything else?)

She sits there in a stunned state of disbelief as the movie runs through the classic tale and by the time the credits are over she officially has a least-favorite fairy tale. Her frustration builds until she feels that odd feeling that she’s begun to associate with odd things happening – the one that’s reminiscent of a rubber band snapping. Panicked, Hana looks around hurriedly, but upon seeing nothing out of the norm, she relaxes.

Then Hana realizes – her teachers wig is _blue._ Oh no.

* * *

When Hana curls up in Nori’s lap (she’s getting a little big for this, but he never complains), she’s nervous and more than a little upset. Her side is still stinging from the force of Uncle Vernon’s slap and she’s trying hard not to cry. She didn’t _mean_ to turn the teacher’s wig blue, and how could Uncle Vernon possibly know if it had been her fault – one second the wig was white, then blue.

Hana sighs, and curls tighter into Nori’s warmth. She supposes she should just expect it now – anything unusual is bound to be her fault. She’s young, not stupid; she’s seen the signs too.

Nori is eyeing her, worry evident on his face and Hana mentally kicks herself. Of course he’s worried; she’s not normally this quiet.

“Bad day?” He asks her, watching her face carefully and Hana can’t suppress a wince. His eyes narrow, and reluctantly, she nods, tucking her bare toes tighter into his breeches. It seems that even her dreams can’t hold back the chill of the seasons.

“I didn’t mean to.” She tells him, in a small voice. Nori blinks, _What?_

“She just made me really mad, and the people who made that movie were stupid.” She insists, clutching tighter at his shirt, “They don’t know _anything_ about dwarrow.”

Nori feels very lost, and he says so, making her start at the beginning. By the time she’s done, Nori can feel a headache coming on. It’s the same issue they deal with every time they deal with the race of men. Admittedly, the dwarrow are a typically secretive race and don’t go around telling everyone and sunder facts about their people, because to be honest, they do often find the lack of knowledge amusing, especially when people think that there are no dwarrow women. It never makes it any easier on the children though. He pulls her into a hug, wincing a little as her fingers curl a little too tightly into his beard and it pulls.

“A’ course they don’t khajmel.” He tells her, making her frown in confusion.

“But _I_ do.” She whines, still insulted on his behalf – as if she can’t believe that other people are so… so ignorant. Nori presses down a smile at how she almost seems to fluff up like an angry kitten.

“Tha’s ‘cause yer special.” He reminds her, and to him, she is. She’s becoming more and more dwarrow in her mannerisms – although he counts himself lucky that she hasn’t taken on dwarrow table manners.

“Oh…” She says, as if the thought had never occurred to her before – because it hasn’t. She knows she’s lucky to have Nori, but she’s never really thought about it in depth. She knows that he thinks she’s precious to him, but there has always been that little voice in her head whispering that he’ll leave, just like everybody else – like her parents , like the friends she tried to make, but were chased away by Dudley.

“I wouldn’t teach jus’ anybody Khuzdul, or make beads for them.” Nori tells her, and Hana can’t help it – she starts to cry. Happy tears, but she’s still crying.

* * *

Now that the topic of Fairy Tales has come up, it seems to stick around because the next night Hana lugs home a copy of Grimm’s Fairy Tales from the school library in secret, and curls up around the book when she goes to sleep. Sure enough, when she sees Nori that night, the book is there too.

He stares at it, baffled, before agreeing to read it with her; and then they realize they have another problem – he can’t read the words because he’s only ever needed to read westeron and the cirth they use to pen Khuzdul. English seems to be written in a different form from westeron. Nori swears and Hana can only stare at him with wide eyes – he’s never told her _that_ word before.

She wonders absentmindedly about what it could mean before deciding that if Nori cannot read to her, she will read to him, and she does so. Slow and tripping over her words at first, but Hana quickly settles into a rhythm and relaxes against him as they read through Cinderella, Little Red Riding Hood and Rumpelstiltskin; Hana actually growls when she sees the tale of Snow White, and pointedly skips it which makes Nori chuckle.

They read through the Wolf and the Seven Little Goats which makes Nori laugh at the actions of the mother goat, and then he rants for a good half an hour once they are done with Hansel and Gretel because the idea of abandoning children is so abominable his people

The Shoemaker and the Elves makes him chortle with glee at the thought of the ‘prissy elves’ (his words, not Hana’s) being reduced to such a small size, and when they read ‘The Star Coins’ he looks her straight in the eye and tells her very firmly _not_ to do what the little girl in the story did. Hana snorts and tells him that she’s not stupid, it’s just a story and there is no way she’s going to go without clothes at this time of year – she’d just steal a blanket for the stranger instead.

At the end of it all, when she closes the book and snuggles into him he asks her what her favorite tale is and she says it’s Little Red Riding Hood, because the Woodcutter reminds her of Nori and how she knows that he’d save her if she was ever eaten by a wolf. Nori very seriously replies that he’d kill the wolf before it got anywhere near her, but secretly thanks Aulë that there are no wolves where she is anymore.

* * *

It’s not even dark yet, but Nori is already heading toward the local alehouse. He needs a drink, and he can’t wait for sundown. It’s not yet busy at the Hammer and Anvil, so Nori is easily able to order a flagon and find a table to sit at, his shoulders falling into a natural, weary slump.

Hana is growing up fast, and he finds himself worrying for her. She’s better at handling knives now; having had several months of practice and while this makes him feel happier, knowing she has a way to defend herself Nori still can’t relax. He won’t admit it to her, but he’s noticed an increase of strange incidents – almost as if they too are growing along with her.

Her growth spurt amused him at first, watching her flail and stumble over having gained two inches, but then he noticed the other part – the part that scares him. Nori isn’t afraid _of_ Hana, because he trusts her implicitly, but he is afraid _for_ her. Not because it’s so obviously magic, but because it’s so blatantly uncontrolled.

She’s told him that her aunt and uncle are firmly entrenched in their denial – to the point where they won’t even let their son near street performers who claim to do magic tricks. Nori thinks they protest too much, that they know something they aren’t telling her. He’s angry at them, he realizes, because if they know something, they might know of a way for her to control whatever it is – and she _needs_ to learn control, just like how she needed to learn _how_ to throw her knives. Without control she could hurt herself or somebody else.

He’s still musing over the matter an hour later when Bofur drops into a seat next to him, raising his own flagon in a greeting. Nori nods in acknowledgement of the miners’ presence.

“Evenin’” Bofur says in his merry voice, eyes bright with his usual cheer.

“Evenin’” Nori replies in a gruffer tone, he’s not feeling quiet as warm-spirited as his friend, even though he’s already on his third drink of the night. Bofur raises an eyebrow, picking up on his less than golden mood.

“Ye’ wanna talk about what’s upsettin’ ye’?” Bofur asks, eyeing his ginger friend carefully.

“Not really.” Nori tells him, glowering at his now-empty flagon and waves at the barmaid to bring him another, setting the coins down on the table when she arrives.

“Alrigh’ then. I’ll settle fer drinkin’ ye’ under the table then lad.” Bofur winks and Nori can’t help but grin a little. This is why he likes Bofur. The miner knows when to leave things well enough alone.

“I’d like ta see ye’ try.” Nori offers, holding his flagon up in a salute. The ale inside it sloshes wildly as he takes a deep swig, and the game is on. They drink for hours – partly from practice, partly due to the stubborn constitution of Dwarf physiology, and like all dwarves who engage in drinking contests, they love to sing.

_“Ho! Ho! Ho! To the bottle I go,  
to heal my heart and drown my woe._

_Rain may fall and wind may blow;  
and many miles be still to go._

_But under a tall tree I will lie;  
and let the clouds go sailing by.”_

Finally, Nori begins to slow, feeling rather tipsy and slurred. He hasn’t eaten much today, and he’s still ten years younger than Bofur, which means the older dwarf has had longer to train his body. He starts swaying lightly and Bofur laughs.

“I think mayhap we’d best be getting onward now, aye?” The miner says, a gleeful look in his eye, and Nori nods reluctantly. He hadn’t fixed his problem, but he certainly feels better, and so he’s willing to take what he can get and head for bed. They stand, tossing one last coin to the barmaid as thanks for putting up with them and make for the door. They’re half way there when Bofur’s boot catches on the edge of one of the floorboards and he stumbles into a stranger.

“Sorry abou’ tha’ lad.” The miner apologizes, but the dwarf in question isn’t looking for pretty words and takes a swing at him. Bofur ducks just in time, shouting in surprise as he does. Never one to leave a friend in trouble, Nori slams the nearest chair into the attacker and an all-out bar fight ensues. Ale goes everywhere as a nearby table is overturned, and more than one chair is reduced to kindling as axes are drawn.

Nori drops to the floor, and tugs on the leg of Bofur’s breeches indicating for him to do the same. They crouch together for a moment, grinning at the mayhem happening around them, before sneakily crawling toward the door. Luckily, when drunk, most dwarrow don’t look beneath waist height, so they go mostly unnoticed and are able to slip out the door and make a break for it.

It isn’t until they’re in the corridor outside Bofur’s family halls that they stop running, and then they burst out laughing. Nori wheezes so hard he thinks he’ll fall over, but somehow, he keeps his balance. Bofur’s arm around his shoulders might have had a hand in that though.

They say goodbye and Nori heads home. He’s lucky enough that Dori and Ori are both asleep when he gets in, and so he’s able to slip into his room with ease. He kicks his boots off and shucks his shirt before pouring himself into bed, silly grin on his face. He tucks his arms under his head as he slips off to sleep, not caring that his head is going to ring like the sound of a hammer on stone come morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is the longest chapter so far (3143 words) and we’re starting to flesh out the character’s a bit more. I now have Tumblr, you can find me at "arrowsbane dot tumblr dot com", although I warn you that I have no idea what I’m doing. I’ll be open for Q&A on the 18th of March, and another one on the 6th of April in honor of the release of Battle of Five Armies, because I’m going by iTunes dates.
> 
> Khuzdul
> 
> \+ Khajmel – “gift of all gifts” [Inflection: Comperative Form; SINGULAR ULTIMATIVE]  
> \+ Namad – ‘sister’; Namadith – ‘little sister’  
> \+ Nadad – ‘brother’; Nadadith – ‘little brother’  
> \+ Amad – ‘mother’; Adad – ‘father’
> 
> Sources
> 
> Drinking Song: http://tolkien dot cro dot net/talesong/drinking dot html  
> Grimm’s Fairy Tales: http://www dot amazon dot co dot uk/Complete-Grimms-Wordsworth-Library-Collection/dp/1840221747  
> The Star Coin: http://en dot Wikipedia dotorg/wiki/The_Star_Money


	5. When Snakes Speak

_For Emma, because she tells me that being Hungover sucks royally._

* * *

Nori’s head is swimming. He knew getting into a drinking competition with Bofur wasn’t the best of ideas, but it’s always so much fun. He opens his eyes and shuts them again, groaning as he curses at the light from the fire crackling softly in the grate – Dori must have lit it while he was sleeping, the git.

He drags a hand over his face to rub at his aching temples and tries to open his eyes again, but the light hurts too much so he yanks his pillow over his face instead. The bed dips ever-so-slightly and Nori grumbles unhappily. If Ori and his friends are up to something they will be in so much trou- Ooh. That feels good. That feels _really_ nice.

He’s in too much pain to try to find out who it is, but somebody is untying his hair, which takes away a lot of tension, and the feeling of having his hair played with has always been the easiest way to relax him. Something to do with memory-association or some shit like that – he’s heard Dori ramble about it before, but can’t be arsed to remember the details – thinking is another thing that hurts too much to do right now. Small fingers slide through the hair behind his ears and Nori can’t help it (and will deny it till the day he dies) but he lets out a soft noise of appreciation and squirms happily, feeling his mind start to drift off again.

* * *

Hana didn’t think it was possible for a person to be able to sleep while they were dreaming, but Nori seems to be just fine with the concept. The dwarf is flat out on his bed, ignoring (if not cursing) at the merry fire that she’s dreamed up, and has a pillow pulled over his face to block the light. At this point, Hana isn’t entirely sure if Nori is aware of her presence at all – he certainly hasn’t greeted her as he usually does.

At ten, she’s too old to pout over such things, but it doesn’t stop her from feeling a more than a little brassed off with him. Hana pulls herself up on to the bed, ignoring his groan as the mattress dips under her weight and settles herself by his head where she takes it upon herself to fix his hair, which, even wound into his elaborate braids, has managed to get mussed in his sleep.

She sets each bead in a neat pile in her lap as she carefully picks apart his braids and combs his hair free of snarls and tangles with her fingers. Even though he isn’t fully conscious (by any definition) Nori seems to relax under her hands, even going so far as to let out a little purr when she starts carding through the hair behind his ears – Hana grins. She will _never_ let him live this down.

* * *

It’s Dudley’s birthday, and Hana is rather unimpressed with the way events are unfolding. She was yanked out of a rather amusing chat with Nori by her aunt in order to cook breakfast (and warned not to burn the bacon, which is ridiculous because Hana perfected her bacon-skills months ago), and then treated to a rather ridiculous show of Dudley opening presents – most of which he’ll break within the month or put in his second bedroom. As always, Dudley counts his presents, which Hana finds annoying – it means she can’t play ‘hide-the-toy’ and wait to see how long it takes for him to notice that it’s missing. When he gets to thirty-six, (and inwardly Hana wonders when he’d leant to count so high,) Dudley runs out of presents.

“Thirty-six,” He says, glowering at his parents, before adding “I had thirty-eight last year.”

Hana’s eyes light up as she watches Aunt Petunia hurriedly try to placate Dudley with another present that she seems to pull out of nowhere and the promise of two more. Hana finds it amusing to watch Dudley as he strains to add two and thirty-seven together – is it possible to pull a muscle while adding?

Hana pushes down disappointment as the potential tantrum is derailed and Uncle Vernon ruffles Dudley’s hair. Drat. The telephone rings, and Aunt Petunia bustles off to answer it, leaving Hana and Uncle Vernon to watch Dudley unwrap his pile of presents, which borders on obscenity for sheer number alone. There is a bike, and a video camera – and is that an _airplane_? Really? There are _sixteen_ new video games and a VCR so he can watch his numerous video tapes whenever he likes, and a rather ostentatious looking gold watch – which he is still pulling the bright colored paper off of when Aunt Petunia comes back with the news that Mrs. Figg has broken her leg and Hana knows this won’t end well.

Before they leave the house, Uncle Vernon pulls her aside and warns her not to pull any _funny_ business, whatever that means. Does he think she’s going to climb on a roof or into a tiger’s cage? Actually, now that she thinks about it, he might very much appreciate it if she got herself eaten by tigers.

Half an hour later, Hana still can’t believe her bad luck, because she is stuck in the backseat of the Dursleys car with Dudley and his rat-faced friend Piers Polkiss on the way to the zoo. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia couldn’t think of anything else, even though Hana was more than happy to disappear off into the woods for the day. She wanted to test out the new knives Nori had given her last week after he decided she had outgrown the last set – that last inch that has snuck up on her during the spring had made all the difference.

* * *

It’s a warm day – being early summer and all, and the zoo is packed full of people. The Dursleys buy both Dudley and Piers chocolate ice creams that are no doubt full of sugar, and because Hana isn’t quite able to hide behind Uncle Vernon in time, and the lady in the van asks, Hana is saddled with a lemon pop – which luckily isn’t all that sweet.

Hana hates sweet things, which is unusual for children her age. She’s always been happier with savory food more than anything, and if you asked – she’d tell you that it’s due to a lifetime of watching Dudley devour all many of sugary things in a many number of horrid ways. When they eat lunch in the Zoo Restaurant, Hana narrowly avoids being given the remains of Dudley’s first knickerbocker glory (because it isn’t big enough and he demanded a different one) by suggesting he combine the two and have _even_ _more_ ice cream. She suppresses an evil grin, because getting Dudley sugar high is one of her many ways to cause the Dursleys trouble, and then she remembers that she’ll be stuck with him the whole afternoon and won’t be able to escape his sugar high like she normally would.

They visit the Reptile house, which is lovely and cool, and the darkness is refreshing which Hana appreciates after having spent the morning in the bright summer sunlight. It’s full of… well… reptiles, slithering and crawling along and over pieces of wood which are conveniently located in their tanks.

It takes Dudley less than five minutes flat to find the largest snake in the building, and presses his nose right up against the glass. The snake doesn’t seem all to impressed – it sleeps through the whole thing and Hana feels a little jealous. If she had managed to escape this morning she too would have been sleeping the afternoon away – most likely up a tree and out of reach of the other children in the neighborhood.

Dudley whines at Uncle Vernon to make it move, and Uncle Vernon taps on the glass. When nothing happens Dudley whines again and Uncle Vernon raps harder. After a few quiet moments, Dudley declares it to be boring and moves on to the next tank with his father, leaving Hana alone with the snake. She absently wonders if it has died of boredom, because she feels like _she’s_ dying of boredom right now.

She’s about to leave, when the snake suddenly opens its eyes and slowly raises its head until their eyes are level. Then it winked. Hana stares, mouth agape. _What?_ She looks around to see if anybody is watching, and then turns back to the snake. She winks in return and the snake jerks its head toward Dudley and Uncle Vernon and rolls its eyes. The look on its serpentine face is so obviously saying:

“I get that _all_ the time.”

"I know," Hana tells it, not sure if it can hear her through the glass. "It must be really annoying."

The snake nods, as if to answer her and Hana tilts her head to the side.

"Where do you come from, anyway?" Hana asks – she’s never really bothered to think about snakes very much, barring a few musings on the toxicity of their venom. The snake uses its tail to motion to a sign that rests next to the glass and Hana blinks, before reading it.

_‘Boa Constrictor, Brazil.  
This specimen was bred in the zoo.’_

“Oh. So, you’ve never been to Brazil.” She asks it, and it shakes its head.

“I’m sorry,” She says, “I imagine it must be very warm there.”

The snake is nodding, as if agreeing with her when a loud shout makes the both of them flinch.

"DUDLEY! MR. DURSLEY! COME AND LOOK AT THIS SNAKE! YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT IT'S DOING!" Piers shouts and Hana is barely able to get out of the way in time as Dudley races over. She trips over her own shoelaces and lands hard on the concrete floor. It hurts, and suddenly she feels angry with Piers and Dudley – If they had been more careful, she wouldn’t have needed to move and wouldn’t have tripped. That familiar feeling – the one like a rubber band – bubbles up inside her once more and Hana panics, but it’s too late.

One minute Dudley and Piers have their faces jammed up against the glass, and the next – the glass is gone and they are falling into the snakes tank. There is a loud splash as they fall into the shallow layer of water, and then they start to panic as the snake uncoils itself and slides out of the now window-less tank and past Hana toward the exit.

"Brazil, here I come.... Thanksss, amiga." Hana fells faint – did the snake just _talk?_

* * *

The look on Nori’s face when she tells him about the snake is part incredulous, part freaked out, which to be honest, is rather funny to look at. But then he gets a contemplative look on his face, and Hana is left feeling just a little worried. But then he says:

“Tha… could be mighty useful lass. If ye’ can talk to snakes, yeh might be able to use ‘em as spies. Ye’ would be able to find out all sorts’a stuff.” All Hana can do is stare at him because he’s right. She’d just need to know how to convince the snakes to help her – nobody would think twice about a grass snake slithering past, _and_ snakes, being as small and flexible as they are, would be able to go almost anywhere.

She grins at him, and he gives her a cheeky wink. She needs to find a snake, and she knows just the place.

* * *

Needless to say, Hana is indeed blamed for the incident at the zoo, and by the time her punishment is done, summer has started. In between Dudley’s birthday and the end of her punishment, the summer holidays have started, and Dudley has managed to break both his video camera and the remote control airplane. He also managed to knock Mrs. Figg over while riding the racing bike that he had wanted for his birthday. She and her crutches hadn’t stood a chance.

It’s mid-July when the letter arrives, it’s so strange that such a little thing could be so important. Hana’s sitting in the kitchen watching Aunt Petunia dye some clothes she found at the local thrift store grey in order to avoid spending more money than she’d like on the uniform for Stonewall, the secondary school Hana will be attending in the fall. Both Dudley and Uncle Vernon wrinkle their noses at the smell coming from the sink as they settle in at the table, and Hana has to move out of the way in order to escape the reach of the stick that Dudley now carries everywhere (Smelting must be run by nutters if a stick is considered part of their uniform). A click sounds, as the morning post is pushed through the door, and Hana can hear the familiar noise of the letters hit the doormat.

"Get the mail, Dudley," says Uncle Vernon, buried in the morning paper.

"Make Hana get it." Dudley grumps irritably.

"Get the mail, Hana." Uncle Vernon says, not really caring who gets the mail.

"Make Dudley get it." Hana retorts, not really in the mood to be pushed around.

"Poke her with your Smelting stick, Dudley." Dudley is all-to-eager to comply, and Hana has to move quickly in order to get out of the way – again. There are three letters on the matt, and she picks them up – a postcard from Uncle Vernon’s horrid sister Marge (Hana is still holding a grudge against the woman’s dog), a bill, and… a letter with her name on it. How strange.

_Miss. H. Potter_

_The Cupboard under the Stairs_

_4 Privet Drive_

_Little Whinging_

_Surrey_

Hana eyes the envelope, confused. It is heavy and thick – made of a strange yellow-tones parchment, the writing written in a bright green ink. She turns the letter over, and realizes that the letter is sealed with a purple wax seal. It is embossed, but Hana can’t be bothered to look any closer. She opens it in the hallway, and unfolds the letter.

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_

_Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE_

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

_Dear Miss. Potter,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31. Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall,_

_Deputy Headmistress_

There is a booklist and another list for uniforms and equipment, but Hana shoves them back into the envelope, not feeling very wowed. What weirdo would send her this?

"Hurry up, girl!" shouts Uncle Vernon, who is still sitting in the kitchen. "What are you doing, checking for letter bombs?" He laughs at his own joke and Hana wanders back into the kitchen, handing him the postcard and bill. He rips open the bill, sneers at it and throws it on the table before turning his attention to the postcard.

"Marge's ill," he tells Aunt Petunia. "Ate a funny whelk. --."

"Dad!" Dudley says suddenly. "Dad, Hana's got something!"

“It’s junk,” She tells him. “Some nutter wanting money by the looks of it. Magic doesn’t exist.” She chucks it in the bin before anybody can say anything else. She doesn’t notice the terrified looks on her Uncle’s face, doesn’t see her horrified aunt fish the envelope out of the bin and read the address with shaking hands – she’s much more interested in her breakfast. Now that she’s finally free, she wants to get out and into the woods; she’s been dying to test out Nori’s theory about her being able to talk to snakes.

* * *

Once breakfast is over, Hana is out the door, across the garden and into the forest faster than anybody can say Abracadabra – not that anybody would, because Uncle Vernon banned that word when she was three.

She spends the whole day searching for a snake, but it isn’t until late afternoon when she finally strikes gold. She’s sitting down on an old fallen tree for a rest, when out of nowhere --

“G’dday mate.” Hana turns to see a grass snake coiled next to where she sits on the log. There is nobody else nearby, so it stands to reason that the snake is the one talking.

“Hello.” Hana’s eyes are round.

“Now, what’s a nice lass like you doing in a place like this. There are Adder’s livin’ in these parts.” The grass snake says, blinking up at her.

“I was trying to find a snake.” Hana replies, her voice a tad faint.

“Why?” The snake seems genuinely confused.

“I met a boa constrictor at the zoo… and we spoke. I wanted to make sure I wasn’t going crazy.” She explains.

“Fair enough.” The snake agrees, and then adds: “M’names Steve. You?”

“I’m Hana.” Hana says, falling back onto autopilot.

“Nice name. I’m Steve.” Steve the snake tells her.

“Why do you sound Australian?” She asks meekly. This was actually happening.

“Ah, I spent a few years living in a garden behind where an Australian family of humans lived. They had a lady snake who managed to break out and she spent the winter in my nest… I liked the way she sounded, lassie” Steve explains and Hana nods, eyes wide.

“Oh…” Hana says, still feeling as if the world has tilted on its axis.

“Anyway – I have dinner to be getting on with finding.” Steve says, because snakes aren’t all that big on conversations, and he is hungry.

“Okay.” Hana’s brain isn’t working properly anymore.

“Nice to meet you.” Steve says, flicking his tail in a mimic or a wave.

“Bye.” Hana waves as Steve slithers away, and then her knees give way.

* * *

That evening, when Hana is safely back in her cupboard, mind reeling from meeting Steve, Uncle Vernon does something he has never done before – He visits Hana in her cupboard.

"Er, Hana -- about this cupboard. Your aunt and I have been thinking... you're really getting a bit big for it... we think it might be nice if you moved into Dudley's second bedroom.” He says, not beating about the bush. Hana feels like she’s missing something big.

"Why?" Hana asks, bewildered.

"Don't ask questions!" Her uncle snaps, his face starting to darken. "Take this stuff upstairs, now."

She does as he is told, and quickly gathers her things into a bundle, using her blanket to carry everything up the stairs to the spare room – not the guest room, the room where Dudley keeps all the toys that he no longer bothers with.

Almost everything in the room is broken – the video camera from last month is sat atop a miniature working tank that had once been used to run over a neighbors dog (the poor thing), and the corner of the room was filled by a broken TV, next to which was an empty birdcage. Hana absently wonders whatever happened to the parrot after Dudley traded it for an air rifle… which was on a shelf, the end bent from where Dudley sat on it.

The only things in the room that are undamaged are the books, which are covered in an inch of dust because Dudley is not the type to read.

“I don't want her in there... I _need_ that room... make her get out...." She can hear Dudley screaming at his parents downstairs. Hana sighs as she lies back on the bed and pulls the pillow over her face. ‘Today has been really strange’, she thinks as she drifts off to sleep.

* * *

_Hana and Steve, by Arty Wolf._

My first piece of Fanart. Yes, she knows something you don't. ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… not so many original scenes this time. However, I wrote it all rather quickly, and was trying to blend it with the first stage of the Philosopher’s stone.
> 
> To explain why Hana initially dismisses the letter even when she’s noticed her accidental magic, it’s because she’s spent nearly half her life just accepting everything as it is – from the dreams to the magic. To her, Magic is the kind of thing you’d see at a pantomime and it really doesn’t occur to her. This may sound strange, but I remember being ten years old – logic was something I never really stopped to consider.
> 
> My Tumblr is up and running, complete with a Timeline, Q&A section – to which I will try to respond daily and my Notes (currently being updated). So, head on over to Arrowsbane dot tumblr dot com. :)
> 
> Also, to those of you who keep sending me reviews that consist solely of a demand for me to “update soon”, please understand that after working my butt off and receiving that a mere half an hour after just updating… its rather off-putting. Seriously, my mother is getting jumpy from me imitating a teapot.


	6. Chapter 6

_For Grant, because Steve was his idea._

* * *

 

At almost eleven years old, Hana thinks she is too old to believe in things like magic. She has Nori, and he’s amazing, but he’s still mortal, still a dwarf – not a wizard. He’s told her stories about wars and quests, about dragons and kings, about the five wizards who roam his realm, but he’s also told her about what it’s like to live in a mountain in a home carved from stone, about what it’s like to ride a pony (because a horse is too big for him) and sneaking through the night without a torch because you don’t want to be noticed.

They are so many differences between his home and hers that it’s easy enough to accept things as they are. His world has wizards and dragons, and hers has electricity and modern medicine. Things just are what they are, and Hana accepts this.

She knows that strange things happen in her life, but it doesn’t mean that it’s magic – and that rubber band feeling? Sure, she can feel when things are going to happen, but that doesn’t mean it’s her doing it. Hana knows that if she had magic, there would be no way she would be living with the Dursleys. Seriously – they actually flinch at the mere mention of the word ‘magic’, they wouldn’t keep a wizard in their home.

So Hana feels justified in having thrown the letter away, because it’s obviously a joke; junk mail, just like all those silly advertisements for diets and strange smelling creams that are supposed to make your face smoother – they never work.

* * *

 

The next morning is almost normal in Hana’s opinion, barring her new lodgings. She gets up, gets dressed and goes to cook breakfast as always. But as she looks out the window, she notices something strange. There is an owl, sitting on the roof rack of the neighbors car.

‘ _How odd_.’ She thinks, but dismisses it, because there was a storm last night and the poor thing probably got rather confused.

She’s just setting the large stack of pancakes on the table when Dudley wanders in looking rather lost. He’s screamed, hit his father with that wretched stick of his, kicked his mother, thrown his tortoise through the greenhouse roof and even managed to be sick on purpose. (Hana was secretly impressed, wondering how he managed it because it would be a handy trick to know.) Yet his parents still insist that Hana remain in the spare room.

She doesn’t understand what all the fuss is about, and is too busy feeling rather insulted about her first letter being junk mail to notice the dark looks that Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia are sharing over breakfast.

When the mail arrives, Hana gets up to fetch it and is already halfway down the hallway before anybody can say anything. She picks up the letters and immediately notices another letter – almost identical to the one from the day before save for the change in the first line of her address. Instead of reading “The Cupboard Under the Stairs” (and isn’t it creepy how they knew she slept there), it says “The Smallest Bedroom”.

Hana walks back into the kitchen, handing Uncle Vernon the bulk of the mail and going to toss the letter in the recycling bin.

“Another one?” Dudley asks, looking rather put out.

“It’s just junk mail.” She tells him with a sigh, and Uncle Vernon’s fingers tighten around the stack of mail that he’s holding.

“I want to read it!” Dudley demands, and because she’s too lazy to put up with the ensuing tantrum, Hana hands him the letter. Uncle Vernon turns purple, much to Hana’s amusement. Dudley reads it as best he can, obviously stumbling over the larger words and then stares at Hana.

“Where’s mine?” He demands and Aunt Petunia drops her teacup, spilling chamomile tea all over Uncle Vernon’s unread newspaper. Hana eyes Dudley worriedly.

“Dudley, these nutjobs know where I sleep. Do you really want people perving on you?” Hana asks slowly, because in her mind – that is what is happening. Dudley goes pale and drops the letter quickly, which is binned. Later, when she is weeding the garden, Hana realizes that the change in address means somebody knew she had moved rooms. A shiver goes up her spine.

* * *

 

Hana tries to keep a clear mind and not to panic when Nori tells her that he’ll be gone for the next few days, maybe a week - she really does. He promises that they’ll start on her tracking lessons when he comes back and reminds her that it isn’t the first time he’s been off on a job since they’ve met, but it doesn’t really soothe her nerves any.

He actually has to pull her into his lap this time, which is unusual, and he plays with her hair as he speaks to her in his soft voice, murmuring in Khuzdul as he works his fingers through the knots, and weaves the top layer of her dark locks into a complicated braid around the top of her head, and it looks like a crown when he’s done.

She watches him silently as he explains that he’ll be sleeping by day (up a tree, tied to a branch like he taught her to do), and travelling at night so he isn’t noticed by the locals, because the piece he’s after is dwarf-made, and the men in the town cheated it’s crafter out of a large amount of gold and he’s going to get it back. No matter what Dori says, he still has a sense of honor and a code he lives by.

Hana hasn’t told Nori about the letters, not yet, and she knows she probably should. She just can’t bring herself to admit they matter, and telling him would give them a sense of importance. So she keeps quiet, and clings to his arm as the dream starts to fade. Begs him to be careful, makes him promise to come back, because at the end of the day, deep down, she’s still the scared little girl who he met on that first night. He smiles at her, and he pulls on her braid, and he promises. Then she wakes up.

* * *

 

This time, it’s not one but three letters come through the letter box and Hana frowns. This is starting to verge on weird – maybe there was a computer fault? Even though they look handwritten, the letters are identical – no human hand could pen something with that exact precision.

Uncle Vernon doesn’t go to work that day, and so Hana sits on the stairs with Dudley, who is stuffing his face and watching the letterbox being nailed shut. Aunt Petunia comes along every now and again with a mug of tea in hand and tries to convince her husband to leave the front door alone, but Uncle Vernon is convinced in his ability to be rid of the letters.

“See,” Uncle Vernon tells Aunt Petunia in a muffled voice, his mouth is stuffed with nails, "if they can't deliver them they'll just give up." The look on Aunt Petunia‘s face says that she doesn’t agree, and she voices that concern.

"Oh, these people's minds work in strange ways, Petunia, they're not like you and me," Uncle Vernon insists as he tries to use a piece of fruitcake as a hammer. Hana shares a look with Dudley.

* * *

 

Friday arrives, and Hana is feeling rather grouchy. She hasn’t seen Nori all week, and even though she knows that he’s perfectly capable of taking care of himself she’s still worried.

When twelve of the blasted letters appear, and appear they do, Hana has to stop herself from shrieking like a teapot. Where are these things _coming from_? She stands by the front door, gaping at the sight of the letters poking out from underneath, and around the sides of the door; and when Dudley comes running into the lounge loudly yelling about even more letters having been shoved through the smallest window in the downstairs bathroom, Hana starts to hit her head against the wall. Repeatedly.

Uncle Vernon takes the letters and destroys them – she doesn’t ask how, she just wants them to stop so her life can go back to normal. Hana spends most of the morning watching a humming, and very jumpy, Uncle Vernon board up the front and back doors so tightly that even an ant couldn’t get in or out. She waits until he is done and then climbs out the kitchen window and legs it across the back yard, over the fence and off to the woods. If Nori isn’t here, she’ll go find Steve instead.

* * *

 

Things have stopped being funny now, and Hana is beginning to wonder if she can sue for harassment. Somehow, and Hana will be puzzling this over for months, twenty-four letters arrive… rolled up inside the delivery of eggs that Aunt Petunia had the rather perplexed looking milkman hand her through the living room window.

Aunt Petunia takes care of the letters this time, shredding them in her blender, before chucking them in the fireplace and burning them while Uncle Vernon rants for half an hour and then starts calling up all the local dairy services, trying to find out who thinks this is a good practical joke to play.

"Who on earth wants to talk to you this badly?" Dudley asks Hana who needs to sit down. They’ve retreated up the stairs to the landing because Uncle Vernon’s slowly getting louder and louder with each phone call.

“I don’t think I want to find out.” She replies in a quiet voice. She’s starting to feel very scared, and Nori _still_ hasn’t come back yet. She went looking for Steve the day before, but even he’s gone off somewhere. Do snakes even have a sense of holidays? She has nobody she can talk to, and it’s making her miserable.

* * *

 

Sunday morning dawns bright and clear – a perfect July morning. The birds are singing, the neighbors are in their gardens, and all is right with the world. At least, it would be. But every person in the household of number 4 is walking on eggshells; it has been the week from hell.

Hana cooks breakfast, trying not to twitch at every little noise while Dudley has started rocking in his seat. Aunt Petunia has resorted to drinking tea to calm her nerves, but her hands are still trembling and the mug clatters against the table when she sets it down.

When Uncle Vernon joins them at the table, looking pale and wan from the stress of the past week, he sports an oddly cheerful smile which makes Hana feel very nervous. _‘Please don’t let him have snapped.’_ She inwardly prays to every available deity, and then some.

"No post on Sundays," He tells them, and Hana breathes a sigh of relief as she watches him spread marmalade all over his newspapers… somehow ignoring the plate of toast at his elbow. "No damn letters today –" He is cut off by a blow to the back of the head – something had come flying down the kitchen chimney and right into him. Within seconds, the object (yet _another_ letter) is joined by a good thirty or so more of its companions. The room is full of them. The Dursleys duck under the table, only to find that Hana has already beaten them there.

“Out” Uncle Vernon roars, picking Hana up by the middle and shoving her into the hall. “Out!” He shouts again, pulling Aunt Petunia and Dudley with him as her bolts from the room and slams the door behind them. Nobody speaks for a moment, the shock is overwhelming. The house is being invaded by mail, and they can still hear even more letters flowing into the kitchen and ricocheting off of whatever they hit.

"That does it,"Uncle Vernon snarls, pulling his moustache so hard that parts of it come loose and fall to the floor. “I want you all back here in five minutes ready to leave. We're going away. Just pack some clothes. No arguments!"

Nobody is foolish enough to argue, and they all bolt for the stairs. Hana grabs one of Dudley’s many sports bags that have been dumped in her room and quickly shoves two sets of clothes, a flashlight, the cache of knives that Nori gave her (she has two concealed on her person already) and the thickest blanket she has into it. She grabs a large baggy jumper and ties it around her waist, yanks her battered trainers on and slings the bag over her shoulders. She gets halfway down the stairs, before she remembers that she has no idea where she’ll end up and darts back up to the landing and into the bathroom.

Three minutes later and she’s in the kitchen, hurriedly filling up a set of water bottles that Aunt Petunia has handed her. Two minutes after that and she’s in the back of the car, having legged it out the window. It takes Uncle Vernon a few minutes longer because he is busy prying the boards off the front door with a crowbar, and he’s dragging a sniffling Dudley behind him, but the Dursleys are in the car soon enough and then they are roaring off down the motorway.

* * *

 

They drive and drive and drive. Nobody dares to say anything, not even Aunt Petunia, and the only sound is Uncle Vernon’s muttering when he suddenly picks a new direction – not even looking at the signs. It’s like he thinks that if he has no set path, the letter-senders won’t be able to find them.

They don’t stop to eat, and are lucky Aunt Petunia thought to bring bottles of water for them (even if Hana was the one to fill them) to sip on, because Uncle Vernon drives all day – ignoring Dudley’s protests. By the time the sun begins to set, Hana has a headache from Dudley’s whining – even pulling her jacket over her head hadn’t muted the noise.

The hotel they stay at that night is rather dreary, located on the outskirts of a city – which city, Hana doesn’t know. She shares a room with Dudley, choosing to curl up in the corner with the duvet instead of the damp bed with its musty sheets. Dudley snores, easily dropping off, but Hana sits up - too wired to sleep. She’s feeling paranoid, and her eyes are constantly darting between the door and window.

Breakfast is sparse and cold – nothing compared to what Hana could cook were they at home. They have barely finished when the hotel’s owner appears, a letter in hand. Dudley eyes it warily, and Hana has to suppress a whimper. It’s not their fault, they’re both just children and they’ve been driven from their home by letters, it’ll be a miracle if they don’t need therapy.

"'Scuse me, but is one of you Miss. H. Potter? Only I got about an 'undred of these at the front desk." The lady says, holding up a letter, upon which green inks states:

_‘Miss. H. Potter_

_Room 17_

_Railview Hotel_

_Cokeworth.’_

Hana shrinks back in her chair – when will this nightmare end? The manager stares at them, and Uncle Vernon stands up quickly – following her from the dining room.

Hana doesn’t ask what happened to the letters, she’s too busy trying to pretend that nothing is wrong – they are just out on… a family holiday? It’s flimsy and weak, but she’s scared right now.

* * *

 

Hours pass, and they are still driving – Hana has no idea where they are.

“Wouldn't it be better just to go home, dear?" Aunt Petunia says timidly, but she is ignored. Uncle Vernon seems to be searching for something – but doesn’t quite know what he’s looking for. They drove into a forest and stopped, then left again. Next it is a plowed field, the middle of a suspension bridge and the top of a parking garage.

"Daddy's gone mad, hasn't he?" Dudley warbles plaintively, looking to Aunt Petunia as they sit in the car, looking out at the ocean. They are somewhere along the coast, locked in the car and it is starting to rain. Uncle Vernon has disappeared off somewhere and Dudley is starting to lose his cool – what little of it that he still had. Hana sits in silence, her legs curled underneath her, shoes lying on the mat behind the driver’s seat.

"It's Monday," Dudley whines, looking pitifully at his mother. "The Great Humberto's on tonight. I want to stay somewhere with a television. "

Hana ignores her cousin, she’s too busy watching Uncle Vernon approaching the car. He’s carrying a long, thin package and smiling in a way that makes her feel very, _very_ nervous. When Aunt Petunia asks after it, he just pats it happily and doesn’t say anything – eerie grin still in place.

"Found the perfect place!" He tells them. "Come on! Everyone out!"

Even though it’s the end of July, it’s freezing cold. Hana unties her jumper from around her waist and pulls it over her head as quick as she can. She shakes her hair out of her eyes to see Uncle Vernon happily pointing at a large rock, far out into the ocean. A beat up old shack sits upon it – looking as if it’s ready to cave in. Hana swallows – well, it’s unlikely the post man will be able to reach them at the very least.

"Storm forecast for tonight!" She hears Uncle Vernon tell Aunt Petunia, explaining that an old man is lending them his boat. One look at the man in question tells Hana that he hasn’t been out on the sea in a long time – too old to sail a boat alone. The boat in question is a ramshackle old thing, and it smells of salt and rust and seawater – the bottom of the hull (that which bobs above the water line) is covered in mildew and barnacles.

If it was cold before, it’s even colder on the boat – they are drenched by the spray of the sea and Hana feels salt on her cheeks – the water dried by the wind that cuts through her clothes like a knife. It feels like it takes hours to get to the rock, but really it can’t be more than thirty minutes at most, the tide is on their side. They stagger up onto the rock and tie the boat off, slipping as they move up the broken pathway to the house. It’s foul, the inside smells of kelp and seaweed, the doorway and windows crushed over with a layer of salt, and the wind whistles through gaps between the wooden slats that make up the building.

There are only two rooms – a main room with a fireplace (which is damp, empty and moldy), a threadbare couch and old broken table. The second room is a bedroom with a thin and lumpy looking mattress and a pile of damp blankets. Uncle Vernon has brought food, but it isn’t much - just a banana and a packet of crisps each. Hana is suddenly starving, realizes just how little she’s eaten in the past few days.

She hasn’t been hungry, too nervous and upset to want food, but now her stomach is roaring in her ears and she regrets not having packed some of the dried food she hoards under her bed. They eat quickly and Uncle Vernon tries to start a fire in the old grate using the empty crisp packets, but it doesn’t work – they just shrivel up into balls of melted plastic and produce dark smoke.

"Could do with some of those letters now, eh?" Uncle Vernon says cheerfully, and Hana flinches. She doesn’t think that’s funny. There is no chance of any mail reaching them where they are, but the very thought of any letters still makes her cringe.

The sun sets, and with it a storm descends upon them. The waves are fiercer than before and they sweep all the way up the rock and against the house. Water leaks through the holes in the walls and the wind howls at the windows. Aunt Petunia uses the old blankets from the second room to make Dudley a bed on the sofa, handing Hana the thinnest and nastiest blanket for her own use before disappearing through into the bedroom with Uncle Vernon. Hana stares at the blanket in her hand, before seeking out the softest part of the floor to curl up on.

Once she is sure that everyone is asleep, she pulls out her spare jumper and swaps it with the still damp one from earlier, pulls on a second pair of socks over her already covered feet and wraps herself in the blanket she brought with her before putting the thinner blanket over the top for an extra layer.

It’s cold, and the floor is hard and damp – and no matter how hard she tries, she can’t sleep and that frustrates her, because more than anything she wishes she were curled up in Nori’s lap, safe and warm and far away from the lunacy that has become her life. These letters have ruined _everything_. Hana decided that she’ll happily take one of her knives to whoever is sending these letters… or maybe she’ll use poison. If she can’t sleep she may as well use her time productively. In her defense, she’s barely slept in the past few days and she hasn’t seen Nori since the night after the second letter came. She’s sure that a jury would rule in her favor.

The storm rages on, oblivious to her own personal issues and Hana tosses and turns, ignoring the clenching of her hungry stomach, before finally getting up and making herself a little nest in the corner – between the wall and the end of the couch, snagging one of the blankets Dudley has kicked off of himself as she goes.

Thunder starts to roll through the sky and Hana buries her head under her arm, curling in on herself like a cat. She can see a gleam of light in the dark as Dudley’s arm slips off the couch and his watches face is revealed. 23:50, the screen says and Hana mourns the absence of her time with Nori even more-so. The walls creak and groan against the wind, and the roof moans threateningly – as if it’s about to cave in. Hana can hear the sea crashing against the rock, and for a moment she worries they might be washed away entirely. She’s just telling herself that the idea of the whole place coming down is ridiculous – a lie, for sure, when there is an echoing boom, and the front door shakes as if it’s been hit with a battering ram. Hana jerks herself up and scuttle backwards, pressing one hand to the pouch at her waist and herself into the shadowed corner. There is somebody outside, and they are knocking on the door...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Want to know when the updates are happening? See the Art? Behind the Scenes? Sneak Previews? Get the dish. Follow me on: Arrowsbane dot Tumblr dot com
> 
> Disclaimer: Some dialogue lines, and the address’s (although modified) were taken directly from the Philosopher’s Stone.
> 
> So, why has this taken a week? It’s just 3500 or so words, right?  
> Well… Let’s see. Blending Canon and fic is the hardest thing I ever do – seriously. You try remembering which tense you’re writing in and keeping a straight story AND being sat on by a giant fluff-monster who claims to be your cat and has a problem retracting his claws from your lady bits. I dare you.
> 
> Also, my dog spent most of the week barfing and crapping everywhere, so I was constantly being distracted by having to take her out every hour. She is officially never allowed to wander off down the field ever again. I don’t know what she ate, but I hate it.
> 
> The previous chapter needs fixing – I know I had Steve introduce himself twice, Oops. There are a few other things to fix throughout the story. Other than that, things are going well… I hope. I was originally going to include a scene on where Steve disappeared to, but it just doesn’t fit, so I’ll add it in as a flashback next chapter… maybe. But so you know – he’s been off on one of his little adventures.


	7. Chapter Six

_For JC, because somehow you inspired the blonde whirlwind - I named her after you._

* * *

 

There is another resounding boom and Dudley jerks awake, nearly kicking Hana as he does so.

"Where's the cannon?" He asks, brain addled from sleep. There is another loud noise as Uncle Vernon comes racing through from the other room, slipping and sliding on rainwater that has come through the ever-leaking roof, a rifle in his hands. Hana blinks in surprise – This is new.

“Who’s there?” Uncle Vernon shouts, a tremor in his voice. “I warn you, I’m armed!”

There is a lull, and then the door is hit so hard that it flies off its hinges with a crash and crumples to the floor. The man standing in the doorway is _huge_ , taking up the entire space, and more. His face is almost completely covered with a wild mane of hair and even longer beard. Were Hana not too busy reaching for a knife she might have compared his to a dwarf, y’know, if he were smaller.

The giant has to bend in order to fit through the doorway, and even when he is bent over, his head is still brushing the ceiling. He leans down, picks up the door, and slots it back into its frame which mutes the sound of the storm outside – sound that had increased while the door were on the floor. The giant turns to look at them.

"Couldn't make us a cup o' tea, could yeh? It's not been an easy journey..." He says, as if he has not just broken into their (temporary) living space. Hana stares at him in shock – the nerve. The giant moves to the sofa, where Dudley is curled like a hedgehog in fear.

"Budge up, yeh great lump," The strange man says, and Hana glowers at him. She might not hold any love for her cousin, but it’s the principle of the matter. Dudley, the coward that he is (and maybe she’s been a little harsh right now, but she’s irritated beyond the norm) flees over the back of the sofa to hide behind his mother, who in turn is hiding behind Uncle Vernon.

"An' here's ‘annah!" The stranger says, looking at Hana whose hand, hidden in the folds of her jumper, is clenched tightly around a dwarven-crafted dagger. The only thing that has stopped her from hurling the knife at the stranger is that he is smiling – that and the fact that she isn’t entirely sure if it would be able to penetrate anything vital.

"Las' time I saw you, you was only a baby," The giant man tells her, and Hana flinches when he adds: "Yeh look a lot like yet dad, but yeh've got yet mom's eyes." Several feet behind where the sofa is sitting, Uncle Vernon starts choking on his own spit.

“I demand that you leave at once, sir!" He says bravely, hands shaking around the handle and barrel of the gun. "You are breaking and entering!"

"Ah, shut up, Dursley, yeh great prune," The giant says, and leans over the back of the sofa. He wrenches the gun from Uncle Vernon and then bends it into a knot with ease before chucking it in the corner. Uncle Vernon lets out a rather pathetic squawk, and Hana suddenly feels relieved she didn’t try her knives on him – they might be dwarvern make, but this stranger is clearly an unknown.

“Anyway – ‘annah,” The large man says, turning to look at her. “a very happy birthday to yeh. Got summat fer yeh here. I mighta sat on it at some point, but it'll taste all right." Hana stares at him with wide eyes, as he pulls out a slightly squashed box. She doesn’t take it. The silence is painfully tense as she slowly edges along the wall in an attempt to put more difference between the two of them.

“Is ev’rythin’ alright?” He asks her, turning to Uncle Vernon. “Oi. What did yeh do to ‘er?” He barks and Hana finally finds her voice.

“We’ve just spent the past week been harassed by some nutters who keep sending us mail and know where I _sleep_.” She snarls in a low tone, eyes narrowing. “And now some mad man is breaking into the one place we found to hide and has destroyed our only weapon. No. Everything is _not_ alright” The stranger looks a little hurt, but she isn’t going to buy it. Nori has taught her better than to fall for that.

“Who _are_ you?” She demands, voice strained.

"True, I haven't introduced meself. Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts." He says, holding out his hand, but Hana doesn’t take that either. He’s large enough that he could snap her arm like a twig and she’ll take her chances where she is thankyou very much. Hagrid looks hurt for a moment, but quickly collects himself.

"What about that tea then, eh?" He asks, rubbing his hands together for warmth, and then adds: "I'd not say no ter summat stronger if yeh've got it, mind."

“Do we look like we have anything ‘stronger’?” Hana asks him grumpily. Hagrid winces, remembering where they are. “We’ve been run out of our own home a’cause of those blasted letters.”

“I am sorry abou’ tha’.” He says. “See, we didn’t realize just how many letters were bein’ sent until the quill that writes them up and died last this mornin’.” Hana blinks, feeling very confused.

“What now?” She asks, watching the giant man bustle about by the fireplace, and within seconds, there is a merrily crackling fire in the grate. The room is suddenly filled with warmth and Hana hears Dudley sigh happily from behind his parents. That is of course, until Hagrid sits himself down on the couch (which groaned unhappily) and Dudley shrinks back behind his mother again.

All three of the Dursleys gape along with her as they watch Hagrid pull a myriad of things from the pockets of his large coat – sausages, a teapot, mugs, even a blasted tea kettle – which Hana admires the copper shine that lights up in the firelight – it’s beautiful in an incredibly simplistic way.

Hana allows her mind to glaze over once she decides the giant is no serious threat, ignores the argument that kicks off between Uncle Vernon and Hagrid once it is explained that Hana knows nothing of her heritage – it’s quite funny though, watching Uncle Vernon act like a mouse, and when Aunt Petunia kicks up a fuss, Hana is pretty sure that her mother is insulted somewhere in-between the screeching and jealous-tinged barbs that come out of her Aunt’s mouth. The icing on the cake of everything is when Dudley receives a pig tail, and the Dursleys flee the room in terror. Hana knows that she won’t be forgetting that anytime soon. Hagrid gives her yet _another_ letter and she really struggles to not just burn it. She’s read enough of them by now that she can recite the contents by heart and quite frankly, even Hargid turning up to explain that it isn’t a joke, is not enough to stop her feeling sick at the sight of green ink.

She doesn’t even bother to deny that she might be a witch, and listens patiently as Hagrid then goes on to explain the truth of how she ended up at the Dursleys, and while hearing about her parent’s deaths hurts, it’s more of a sad hurt – a hurt that comes from not knowing how to feel, because how can you mourn something you’ve never had a chance to love? Barring the sadness at the loss of opportunity, there really isn’t a solution.

Afterwards, the two of them settle into a mutual silence in front of the fire which dances and crackles happily, and for the first time Hana doesn’t feel comforted by the golden flames. Finally, Hana curls up into a ball in the corner once more, wrapped in her blankets and she stares into the fire dazedly humming to herself as sleep overtakes her. She is vaguely aware of Hagrid settling himself on the couch, using his coat as a make-shift quilt and his mumbling about shopping in the morning, and then her eyes close and she is asleep.

* * *

He’s late and he knows it. Hana will be furious, and that thought makes Nori grin. She’s adorable when she’s ruffled – puffs up like a kitten, all fluff and little bite. He hadn’t meant to be late, really hadn’t, but the heist he had been about to pull quickly went out of control. He had less time to scope out the area due to the sudden news of a potential buyer and then had to go further afield than he had planned to resell it.

Nori’s way of stealing is pretty simple. When dwarrow are cheated in their sales (and the buyer can easily pay the correct price) Nori goes after the piece, retrieves it, sells it for its true value, then returns the difference in coin to the original owner and keeps the original fee for himself. It’s a win-win-lesson in his mind. He wins, the seller wins, and the cretin who cheated the crafter learns a valuable lesson. _Don’t fuck with Dwarrow._

He’s lucky - this time he was able to bring home slightly more than usual, even if it did take longer than he would have liked. He’ll even have some copper and bronze left over which he can use to cast some beads that he can sell _and_ some for Hana. He’s been thinking it over, and he’s sure that some copper coils to twist into her braids will cheer her up over his absence.

He lets himself into the family home and strips off his soggy boots – leaving them to dry by the main fire before making his way into his bedroom. It takes him less than ten minutes to strip his muddy clothes, pile them beside the door and clean himself up. There is dried mud in his hair, and some leaves stuck in his braids, so he undoes them, piling the beads into a small pouch and setting them by his bed before taking a comb to the wild mess that he calls hair. Once done, he sets the comb down and curls up in his bed, drifting away before his eyes are completely shut.

* * *

Of all the things he was expecting, Nori could never have anticipated the insanity that is Hana’s tale. She isn’t there when he first falls asleep, which is admittedly not too worrying. She’s been known to stay up late reading with her flashlight before, and he _is_ late. So when she joins him in the dream world, eyes wide and more than a little shocked, Nori is mildly alarmed. She takes one look at him and flings herself at him and he finds himself sprawled on the ground, his small friend clinging tightly to him.

Nori pushes himself up into a sitting position and situates himself against the wall, threading his fingers through her messy hair and untangling the snarls that have no doubt been caused by restlessness. There are other signs of her stress – her face is paler than normal, her hands shaky, and there are bags under her eyes which look rather lost. She doesn’t speak for a long time, content to snuggle into him, breathing in his scent until the tenseness leaves her small frame.

“Nori,” she says suddenly, “I’m a witch.”

It’s strange really – a single sentence changes everything as all the unusual events from her childhood make sense and reason clicks into place.

“You don’t seem very surprised.” Hana says after a moment of quiet, eyeing him suspiciously and Nori can’t help but laugh. She’s crinkled her nose up and it looks downright adorable – not that he will tell her that. She still has her knives after all.

“I did wonder lass,” He admits, “I knew yeh had to have some sort’a magic in yeh.”

“You knew?” she squawks indignantly and swats at his arm, he laughs again.

“I had a thought. Didn’t know nothin’ for certain.” He nods, absent-mindedly twisting his fingers through the top layer of her hair before letting it fall loose, the ends of it tickling her shoulders. The way it falls gives him an idea and so he pulls a leather string from his pocket.

“So. How’d yeh find out yeh were a witch?” He asks as he slides his fingers down one of her braids and removes the bead from it, combing the hair loose from the twisted plait.

“The magic school sent me letters,” She says sulkily as she leans back into his hands. “Don’t laugh.” She adds warningly because she knows that it sounds ridiculous.

“An’ yeh just believed it?” Nori’s eyebrows shoot up, his tone incredulous. He gathers up the top layer of her hair once more and ties it in a low ponytail, twisting it under itself and up through a gap in the hair until it fluffs out, forming a silken waterfall from the back of her head.

“No!” Hana protests, slapping at his leg. “A’course I didn’t. They were stupid anyway – and they kept sending them after I ignored the first one.”

“Odd,” Nori agrees, “Yeh think they’d have thought to mebbeh send a body to explain.”

“It was really creepy,” Hana adds with a snort. “They actually knew where I’d been sleeping and everything.” Nori tenses up, and so she hurriedly adds:

“Turns out the letters are written by a magic quill, so they weren’t being perverts or nothin’. It’s also why they didn’t think to send anybody until it burnt itself out writing way too many letters.” She’s eyeing him warily, because if there is one thing dwarrow hate more than orcs or dragons, it’s folk who would harm a child.

“I’m alright Nori, I promise.” Hana insists and Nori slowly allows his body to relax, forcing his breathing to even out. He cards his fingers through her soft mane, tugging and twisting a small potion into a new braid and tying it off with the wooden bead again. He sighs deeply.

“Are yeh sure tha’ yer okay though?” He asks her in a tired tone. She nods and then launches into the story of everything that has happened in the past week, tells him about the floods of letters and how they fled to the hut on the rock after the living room was stuffed full of the blasted things, about how Hagrid knocked the door down and then explained everything.

He nods approvingly when she proudly adds that she had her knives ready the whole time and that she let Dudley eat the food the stranger had offered first, and that simple nod makes her burn with pride. It takes a lot for her to suppress the wild grin that tries to bloom on her face and so she ducks her head and plays with the copper bead that always rests reassuringly over her right shoulder. When she is finished, they sit silently for a while, and then he says:

“Don’t ye be forgetting how to use those pretty knives of yours though. Magic might be fun an’ all, but a hidden blade will aid you just as well as any fancy stick they give you.” Hana nods eagerly and promises, which earns her a smile.

* * *

When Hana wakes the next morning, it is too dazzling summer sunlight streaming through the cracked panes of the desolate looking window and a rather persistent tapping noise. She opens her eyes, and there is an owl at the window. She honestly isn’t surprised any more – considering the owl from Private drive, and the one Hagrid had retrieved from a pocket last night to send a letter to… Dunderboor? She had zoned out for that bit, too interested in the sausages she had been given.

She opens the window and the Owl flutters in, drops its burden on Hagrid’s head and proceeds to attack the coat he is using as a blanket. Hana says nothing – she just stares at it. How strange… Maybe there are mice or something in the pockets, and when Hana’s ears pick up an audible squeak she thinks for a moment that she is correct. But then Hagrid rolls over dislodges the bird who lets out a disgruntled cry which wakes him up. The giant sits up, rubbing at his temples and yawning loudly. He looks through the pockets and digs out some bronze-looking coins which he puts in a pouch attached to the birds’ leg. The owl hoots happily and flies back out the window once more.

Seeing the coins reminds Hana of something.

“Hagrid. How exactly am I supposed to pay for my school supplies? I don’t have any money.” Hagrid laughs, and then says.

“Of course you do. It’s all in the bank where your parents left it for you.” Hana blinks in shock, as she follows him out the front door, quite happy to leave the Dursleys behind. The morning sky is clear and there is a pleasant breeze, tinged with the briny scent of the ocean. They climb into the boat, and Hana pretends not to notice Hagrid doing magic to get it going – she’s too busy gleefully wondering how the Dursleys will get home.

It doesn’t take them long to reach the shore, and then Hana is bounding up a set of stone steps behind Hagrid and following him to the local train station. People stare at Hagrid a lot, but thankfully nobody makes a fuss (even with his loud remarks about muggles and his amazement over a parking meter, which Hana finds painful to watch) and they are able to board the next train to London without interruption.

London is busy, which means that Hana immediately falls in love with it. It’s the kind of city in which she could just blend right in and nobody would ever notice her.

"I don't know how the Muggles manage without magic," Hagrid grumbles as they use a broken escalator to reach the street level and leave the underground behind. They walk along the street for several more minutes before Hagrid steers her into a dull looking pub called the Leaky Cauldron that nobody else seems to be able to see. The inside is dark, and a little bit dingy – as if it could do with a serious airing out.

There is a pair of old ladies in the corner, glasses of sherry in hand – one of them is smoking a pipe, which Hana finds a little odd. A man wearing a top hat sits at the bar, engaged in conversation with the bartender who is wiping out glasses with a rag.

"The usual, Hagrid?" The bartender asks him, apparently knowing Hagrid quite well.

"Can't, Tom, I'm on Hogwarts business," said Hagrid, pointing to Hana who is thankful that he hasn’t slapped a hand down on her shoulder because she knows she wouldn’t stay standing for long.

"Good Lord," the bartender says, peering at Hana, "is this -- can this be --?" The room goes strangely still and silent at his words, and Hana winces. Oh no. Silence is never a good thing.

"Bless my soul," the man behind the bar says in a low tone, "Hannah Potter... what an honor." He rushed out from behind the bar, and Hana backpedals quickly. It isn’t fast enough to stop him from grabbing her hand and shaking it furiously.

"Welcome back, Miss. Potter, welcome back." Suddenly everybody is around her and she’s trying not to panic. Everybody seems to want to shake her hand, and she can only handle it for a few minutes before she’s darting behind Hagrid and tugging on his sleeve. Thankfully one of the old ladies can take a hint and lambasts the lot of them.

“Knock it off. Can’t ye’ see the wee lass is fighten’d” She scolds them in an Irish brogue and Hana breathes a sigh of relief as everybody backs off looking rather sheepish.

"We’d best get going folk. Lots ter buy. Come on, Hannah." Hagrid grins at her, still happy, even after the tongue lashing the Irish lady gave everybody.

"Told yeh, didn't I? Told yeh you was famous." Hagrid says happily as they duck out the back and into an alleyway. Hana glares at him.

“I really don’t like being fussed over like that.” She tells him, and his grin falters. “And I prefer to be called Hana.” Hagrid nods, focusing on the wall in front of them. He taps a brick in the wall and stands back as the wall seems to resort itself, creating an arch in which they can walk through. On the other side of the arch, is a bustling street, packed full of people dressed in brightly colored robes.

"Welcome," Hagrid tells her, "to Diagon Alley." He leads her down the street towards the large white building with the name "Gringotts" embossed on the front and through a set of bronze doors attended to by short, reptilian looking figures.

"Yeah, that's a goblin," Hagrid says quietly as they walk through a second set of doors – these ones are silver. The inside of the bank is a large domed hall, with a number of doors branching off of it. Hagrid leads her to one of the counters and says:

"Morning, we've come ter take some money outta Miss. Hannah Potter's safe." The Goblin eyes him.

"You have her key, Sir?" Hagrid nods, and then proceeds to empty the entire contents of his pockets all over the counter in an attempt to find it. Hana is more interested in staring a nearby goblin who is weighing large rubies. They are beautiful – a lovely soft maroon and she absently wonders what one might do with rubies of that size.

"Got it," Hagrid finally says, having found the tiny golden key which is examined carefully by the Goblin.

"That seems to be in order." He says, and is about to call for an assistant when Hagrid mentions he has business for the Headmaster with a Vault 713. The Goblin nods, and calls for Griphook (another Goblin) to take them down to both vaults. Hana watches Hagrid shove everything back inside his pockets and then they follow Griphook to what looks like a mine shaft and climb into a cart.

The ride down to the vaults is dizzyingly fast, and Hana closes her eyes for a good part of it, dong her best to keep her breathing slow and controlled in order to prevent nausea. When they finally reach the vault, Hana climbs out onto shaky legs to follow Griphook, because Hagrid says that this is her vault. The door opens with a rush of green smoke and then Hana can see the piles of gold and silver inside.

"All yours," Hagrid tells her happily, having clambered out of the cart to stand behind her.

"The gold ones are Galleons," he says as she fills a bag with them, making sure to take more than they say is necessary. She knows that it is best to be prepared, and gold will go a long way in buying assistance.

"Seventeen silver Sickles to a Galleon and twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle, it's easy enough.”Hagrid turns to Griphook, who is standing lazily by the cart.

"Vault seven hundred and thirteen now, please, and can we go more slowly?"

"One speed only," Griphook says with a sly grin, and Hana has a feeling that he isn’t strictly telling the truth. They climb back into the cart, which hurtles even deeper, the air growing colder. They cross an underground ravine and Hana wisely sinks deeper into the cart, not wanting to fall down it. It takes a few minutes, but the pull up in front of the other vault rather quickly. Hana peeks out of the cart, and then does a double take. Vault seven hundred and thirteen has no keyhole. How fascinating.

"Stand back," Griphook tells them, and then strokes the door gently with one of his fingers – the door just melts away into thin air.

"If anyone but a Gringotts goblin tried that, they'd be sucked through the door and trapped in there,” Griphook says in a creepy tone, and Hana makes a note to tell Nori to never try and steal from a Goblin.

Hana waits patiently as Hagrid collects his assignment and clambers back into the cart. They speed back up to the main floor and Hana decides to inquire about exchanging some gold for muggle money. She also clings to her vault key with a determined glare. It’s _hers_ , isn’t it? So it should _stay_ with _her_. Hagrid seems too ill to argue, and so, soon enough, Hana is back outside Gringotts in no time at all, cheerily waving Hagrid off as the poor man heads back to the pub. She looks around for a moment before settling on getting her robes first. She isn’t even in the shop for a whole five minutes before the peaceful quiet is broken.

The girl is a whirlwind of energy, blowing into the shop like a summer squall; her silver eyes alight with joy. “Hi.” She trills, darting forward to greet Hana and offering her hand. “I’m Jessica.”

“Hana.” Hana replies, trying to avoid telling anybody who she is. The scene in the Leaky Cauldron was by far enough for her and she has no desire for another to happen.

“Are you going to Hogwarts as well?” Jessica asks, still almost vibrating with excitement and Hana gets the feeling that she is dealing with an overly-hyper budgie. Hana nods, eyes fixed on the blonde who squeals happily.

“That’s awesome. Do you know what House you want to be in?” Jessica asks and Hana is confused.

“House?” She says, nervousness starting to creep up on her. Jessica blinks, and tilts her head to the side, before starting to explain all about the houses, pulling Hana over to the stools where Madam Malkin stands, having finally returned with the girls’ school robes (how she knew to bring enough for the both of them, Hana will never know). Hana climbs up onto the stool, still listening to Jessica who is rattling on at ninety to nothing, which is a little disconcerting to be honest; Hana has never met anybody so… so vibrant before.

The blonde never seems to pause for breath and so Hana finds herself nodding instead of actually trying to answer any questions that come her way. In no time at all Madam Malkin is done and the two girls hop down from the stool to pay for their robes.

“Mamma is picking up my books and Papa is making sure that all my potions ingredients are boxed up properly.” Jessica explains handing gold to the shop assistant who is ringing up their uniforms.

“Do you want any help picking out a trunk?” She offers, “We can find you one that shrinks itself or has multiple compartments. It makes it easier to store stuff you see – one for your books, one for your clothes, one for equipment ectera.” Hana’s eyes go wide at the thought and she mutely nods.

They collect their packages – it seems that brown paper and string is a common thing to use in the wizarding world. Then the blonde whirlwind is leading her out the door and down the street to the trunk store. In a matter of minutes Hana’s new friend has sweetalked the shop owner into selling them a lovely dark green trunk with burnished copper bands and locks for a discounted price. It’s a lovely thing, not only does it shrink to the size of a small suitcase at the touch of a button, it has a dial on the lock – and when Hana clicks it to a new setting, (each setting marked in roman numerals) it opens a new interior. There are four settings all in all, and Hana doesn’t even try to understand how this is possible, she just quietly thanks Jessica for her help and pays the man at the till. Before the leave, the man is kind enough to show Hana how to fold her new robes inside the trunk so they won’t crease, and Hana presses the little button next to the dial in order to shrink her new trunk. Jessica beams at her, and off they go – The apothecary is amazing, although some of the things they buy there for her are a little creepy. All the little boxes go neatly into another part of her trunk as does the equipment they collect at the next store – a cauldron, telescope, weighs scales and such.

But what Hana loves best is when they enter the bookstore, it’s amazing smelling of old leather and parchment. For a moment Hana thinks that she is in heaven, and she stares happily at the stacks and shelves of books. Jessica tugs on her hand.

“Come on, Mamma is over there,” She says, pointing to a lovely looking blonde woman who is stacking up books on the countertop. “She’ll help us find your books.” Hana shyly follows Jessica over to the woman and stands there silently as Jessica excitedly tells her mother all about how they met and would she please help Hana find her books because Hana is here by herself.

Jessica’s mother “Call me Elaine dear,” smiles, (and what a lovely smile it is), and then leads them over to where the books for the first years are located and helps Hana reach the books that are on the upper shelves. It’s a little embarrassing, because even Jessica is a few inches taller than her, but they are so nice about it that she barely minds. The books, once bought and paid for, fill the last compartment in her trunk and Elaine offers to take her with them to Olivander’s because Jessica hasn’t gotten her wand yet either.

Olivander is a strange little old man, quite like his shop which is full of long thin boxes that are piled in high mounds throughout the room.

"Hello," Hana says politely, trying to not let the old man see just how creeped out she is.

"Ah yes," Olivander says in an airy voice. "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Hannah Potter." Hana’s gut clenches. _Damn_. Jessica’s eyes go wide, and she and Elaine both stare at her in shock.

“It’s Hana.” Hana grumbles, eyeing the old man with a baleful glare, nut Olivander ignores her and starts to witter on about her parent’s wands, which is cool – but still not enough to make up for outing her. She is ever grateful that Jessica and her mother have stopped staring at her, evidently deciding it is much better to be polite and treat her normally. Olivander moves closer and closer to her, looking at her forehead – why _do_ people keep doing that?

"And that's where..." He trails off. “My dear, where is your scar?” He asks, befuddled. Hana stares at him. What the hell? Is he talking about the strange lightning bolt on her collarbone? The one Aunt Petunia claims she got in the park after falling (read: probably pushed by Dudley) from the monkey bars?

“On my collarbone,” Hana says icily. “What on earth does that have to do with my wand?” Olivander backs up hurriedly and turns to Jessica’s mother in an attempt to ease the obvious tension.

“Elaine Newman, Walnut and Unicorn hair? Eight inches? Sturdy?”

“It’s Lovelace now, but yes – it was.” She agrees, smiling softly. “Now, the girls?”

Olivander nods, and sets a magical tape to measuring Jessica who happily steps forward when Hana doesn’t budge. He treats them to a spiel about how wands are never alike, and how they choose their masters, but Hana is more interested in staring at the tape measure – did it just measure the gap between Jessica’s nostrils?

It doesn’t take long for Jessica to find her wand – a surprising mix of Cherry and Billywig stingers (nine inches and with a lovely spring to it), which Olivander tells them is a very happy, albeit slightly bipolar wand. The Cherry being a cheerful and willing type of wood with consistent results and being very favorable for pretty much every branch of magic, and the Stingers (imported from Australia of all places) are common among those who are light of heart and enjoy jokes – but have a very unpredictable nature, often changing between doing exactly as the wielder wishes and then suddenly flipping to causing trouble.

Hana’s wand takes a little longer and they go through almost every wand in the store. Olivander looks particularly upset when a Phoenix father and Holly wand does not take to her, so upset in fact that he has her try it three times, before the shop window shatters into tiny pieces as the wand expresses its displeasure.

Finally, she tries a Hawthorn wand, containing the tail feather of an Augurey (“eight inches, rather inflexible”) and the store lights up as a shower of blue sparks blossoms from the tip of the wand. It’s perfect. Olivander wraps it up for her and she pays the requisite seven galleons before sliding it into her trunk, neatly positioned ontop of her new school robes.

She follows Elaine and Jessica back to the Leaky Cauldron where Hagrid is waiting for her. Thankfully, the pub is now mostly empty and Hana is able to set her trunk down on the table where Hagrid is sat without being besieged by well-wishers. There is a clatter, and Hana looks up to see Jessica pulling a man who must be her father over to meet her. He smiles at her, and they exchange pleasantries while Hagrid pays his tab.

“I’d best be getting you back to yeh family then ‘ana?” Hagrid says, and Hana is grateful that he’s quickly caught onto the fact that she doesn’t like to use her given name. Of course, it’s entirely possible that he’s feeling guilty about earlier.

“Don’t worry about me,” Hana tells him. “I changed some galleons at the bank so I could go and get some new clothes that actually fit me. I’ll have enough left over for a train ticket too.” Hagrid tries to protest until Elaine intercedes and points out that Hana will also need to get underwear because she will be away from home for many months, and Hagrid turns a funny shade of pink before agreeing to leave her to her own devices. It’s nice, knowing that Elaine has that confidence in her, and Hana decides that she likes the Lovelace family. When Jessica insists that she’ll write to Hana everyday if she likes, Mr. Lovelace nods and says that the family owl could do with the exercise. Hana waves goodbye and heads out into London, trunk tucked under her arm. Today has been… an adventure. She can’t wait to tell Nori.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’d like to start by apologizing for any issues anybody might have had with my tumblr. I was trying to fix the coding this week and it just… Well, epic fail. I’ll try and get it fixed asap. From now on, updates will be on Thursdays. Why? Because I love Thursdays. Also because of the sheer amount of crap I have to trawl through in order to write this. I hate blending canon. It used to be fun, but now it kills my inspiration. You can now access Character pages on my tumblr. I’ve added family trees and mapped out character designs for four characters from Earth. No Nori page yet – that’s coming next along with Bofur and Ori. Then Fili and Kili… I’m trying okay, I really am.
> 
> I wasn’t intending to add an OFC, but Jessica sort of wrote herself in. Seriously. I didn’t even notice until AFTER I was done with that scene. Then I sat back and went “What the hell? Where did blondie come from?” Jessica is pretty much a bottle of champagne wrapped in a storm and covered in charisma. She’s bubbly and bright, you can’t say no to her, can’t help but like her – she’s a freaking force of nature.
> 
> The trunk? Well, I figure that women might think more about how to get their stuff around with minimum fuss. I know I’ve always been careful about what I pack/don’t pack. Plus, she’s a rather rich witch from an old family line with a trust fund. It makes sense that she can afford this.
> 
> The change in Hana’s wand? Well, it is an AU and I do indeed have a cunning plan. Prori incantartum? Yeah… Ask me no questions and I’ll tell you no lies. I’ve thought that out and I promise there is madness to my method. :3 
> 
> Hawthorn – There is a unique ritual associated with the harvesting of hawthorn for wandwood- they are only cut in symbolic prunings at Beltane. It is an excellent DADA wand, as it symbolizes protection.
> 
> Augurey tail feather - Augureys, or Irish phoenixes, were once associated with powerful Dark wands, as their cries were thought to signify an upcoming death. However, they were in reality never a strong Dark core, and were more accurately a powerful core for Divinations. Misunderstood students may find themselves bonded to an augurey wand, although these wands are altogether quite rare.  
> Sourced from: http://pottermoreschosenfew dot weebly dot com/wandlore dot html
> 
> Steve Notes - As always, anything that involves Steve is probably heavily influenced by Grant. Because chilled-hippy-characters don’t come easy to me and he is a genius. Again, I was going to add Steve’s Omake but it’s proving to be difficult to write. I have the framework, but I’m beginning to think I should write it as part of the outtakes – a set of off-screen oneshots that don’t feature in the actual story.


	8. Seven

_For my Pillow, because this would fail epically if I were unable to sleep at night._

* * *

August is a month of wonder, arguably one of the best months of Hana's life. Ever since Hagrid gave Dudley a pig's tail the Dursleys have been rather meek and Hana is quite happy to take advantage of this. She's been back to London more than once, something that was made much easier when Jessica wrote and told her about the Knight Bus – which, while being wild and rather nauseating for the first few trips, quickly became a rather useful thing to know about.

She's still wearing her hand-me-downs from Dudley in order to not raise suspicion, but she has new clothes all tucked away in her lovely green trunk – a new pair of sneakers and a pair of butter-soft leather boots for school; jeans that actually fit, along with soft cotton and wool pullovers, and a warm winter's cloak for the cold Scottish winters. She's particularly enamored with this cloak because it's soft and well-made, a beautiful dove grey wool with silver and white embroidery spanning the hem in elegant celtic knots, and to top it off - the hood is lined with the softness of a white rabbit's pelt. She'd found it one afternoon when she had met Jessica in Diagon Alley, the girl having an eye for fashion and knowing more about the wizarding world than herself.

Jessica is a well of information, and it shows by how she can walk into a shop and suddenly spout off information about the owners that even half the employee's don't know. Jessica even knows about Hana's family which is wonderful to hear about – it turns out that Hana's grandmother was the cousin of Jessica's great-great-grandfather, which makes them fourth cousins twice removed. It's a stretch, but both girls are happy to call each other family.

They've been writing almost daily, and suddenly Hana has her first friend (who isn't Nori, that is) and it's wonderful. There is a bit of confusion at first – the whole Hannah Potter thing, but once Hana explains that she wants to just be Hana, Jessica immediately accepts it, and promises not to tell anybody. It will be their secret – well, barring family, because family should always know what they were getting into. Elaine and Mr. Lovelace (Matthew, he had introduced himself as the last time he had dropped Jessica off in Diagon Alley) have both agreed to keep her identity on the down-low too which is nice and Hana quite likes talking to them because the couple quite happily speak to her as if she has a mind of her own, instead of treating her like a baby as most adults seem wont to do.

All in all? Finding out that she's a witch is the second-best thing to have ever happened to her – because she's too loyal to say it's the best, and really, there are loads of witches. There's only one Dwarf in her dreams though.

* * *

Nori threads his fingers through Hana’s braids, carefully twisting the tiny coils of copper into them while she babbles on about her latest adventures in Diagon Alley with Jessica. She’s all excited because her new boots have a fold in the side where she can tuck a tiny little dagger and she’s gotten out more gold which she eagerly hands to him. He tries to protest, but she gets a stubborn look on her face that spells trouble if he doesn’t just comply, and so he does, tucking the silver and gold away inside a pocket.

She promises that her family has left her a lot, and insists that he should take it because then he can melt down the silver and make her beads – this she tells him with a wink and it makes him laugh. It’s become a bit of a joke now – she tries to con him into making her silver beads, and he tugs on her braid. She knows she isn’t ready for silver yet, but it’s still fun to try and catch him off guard.

“…and Jessica says that the reason nobody ever tries to take control of the bank from the Goblins is because the last three times they tried that the Goblins pitched a fit and…”

He’s nodding absently mindedly as she babbles on, but then suddenly something catches his attention.

“Goblins?” He cries, panicked at the thought of Hana having been anywhere near the vicious creatures.

“Yes?” Hana says, turning to look at him, green eyes wide with confusion.

“Your banks are run by Goblins?” His fingers tighten in her hair, and his face turns white.

“Nori are you okay?” Hana asks him, unsure of why he is so afraid.

“Promise me you won’t go near them without at least three knives on you.” He begs her, eyes wide with panic.

“Nori, I don’t—”

“Promise me Hana.” His voice is so desperate that she doesn’t have the heart to protest.

“Thankyou.” He whispers, pulling her closer into his arms and if his grip is a little tighter than she would have liked, Hana doesn’t say anything about it. He doesn’t let her go for the rest of the night. 

* * *

In another life, Hana might have been completely clueless and she is so relieved that Jessica thought to explain how the platform was hidden in her letters this summer. Hana sidles up to the barrier between platforms nine and ten and leans against it. With an ease that feels like sliding into a pool of water, Hana finds herself on the wizarding platform and gets her first glimpse of the magnificent scarlet engine that it is the platform is home too.

Hana is given all of three minutes to bask in the glory that is the Hogwarts Express before Jessica barrels into her from the side and then the world is a spinning mass of blonde curls and an excited squeal until Elaine manages to pull Jessica off of her.

"Hi Jess," Hana says, smiling at her new-found cousin.

"Hana." Jessica squeals happily, bouncing in place.

"It's here, we're here, it's finally happening." Hana nods, an amused smile in place. She waves shyly at Elaine and Matthew, who smile at her in return; because even though they are family, she's still a little leery of adults. Jessica pulls her toward the train and they climb up the steps onto it. Jessica hugs her parents goodbye, and if Elaine looks a little teary, Hana pretends not to notice. Elaine hugs her goodbye as well, which is nice and Matthew shakes her hand, and then they step back allowing the girls to go off on their own. They find a nice compartment together, and close the door behind them.

Their trunks are stowed away on the luggage racks in no time at all; Hana's green and copper trunk sits proudly next to Jessica's own, which is deep mauve with silver accents – something Hana has learned about Jessica is that she is a firm believer in standing apart from the crowd. Jessica is babbling away at ninety miles an hour and Hana can't help but smile. The train pulls away in a cloud of steam, and it is like a weight falls from her shoulders, she feels so much lighter. They are finally on their way.

The two girls chatter together about a book on Charms that Jessica had brought, and Hana leans over her cousin's shoulder as the blonde points to various parts describing how to cast correctly. They draw their wands and carefully practice the gentle flowing motions until a red-haired prefect in robes trimmed with scarlet and gold sticks his head in and tells them off. The obediently put the wands away, unable to look each other in the eyes without laughing- but once the prefect is gone, they burst into giggles and get them straight back out and start again.

About an hour into their journey, the door slides open. Jessica is all smiles, instantly springing up to greet the newcomer – a boy with pale blonde hair that is combed back, and an irritated expression painted across his face.

"Draco! Come and meet our cousin!" She says brightly, looping her arm through his and pulling him into the compartment before he has a chance to say a word. Hana blinks in surprise. Another cousin? How many cousins does she have in this new world?

The boy seems just as confused as she is, and then Jessica is explaining everything.

"Draco, this is Hana. She's Dorea Black's granddaughter – makes her..." Jessica pauses to mentally recite the Black Family tree "your second cousin once removed."

"I thought Dorea married a Potter?" The boy – Draco, says his face creasing in a confused frown.

"Oh. Yes, sorry – Hana is Hannah Potter. She's incognito." Jessica tells him, giving him a sly wink. Draco's face goes slack in surprise, and he turns his wide eyes upon Hana who waves nervously.

"Hello." She says quietly.

"Hello." He replies, his voice full of awe and Hana feels her stomach clench. Not another admirer, please no. She diffuses it as best she can.

"So... cousins?" Her voice is kind, and the strangest look overtakes his face.

* * *

_It's like time has stopped. She's beautiful, and now he finally understands what his mother means when she says that a real lady doesn't need to pretend to be anything other than what she is. Delicate fingers are folded in her lap and wide green eyes look up at him from a porcelain heart-shaped face. Her dark hair shines – hints of dark red and auburn glow under the summer sun, set off by the delicate coils of burnished copper that are twisted into the small braids that hang over her shoulders._

_Then she smiles, and his breath catches. It's like a spring breeze given form – soft and light, but soothing all the same. It chases away the unease and nervousness that have been taunting him since he stepped on the train: What if he doesn't get into Slytherin? What if Father is disappointed? What if nobody likes him?_

_"Draco?_ Draco…" Then the spell is broken by the sound of Jessica's voice. He shakes his head a little, as if he is trying to get water out of his ears. He turns to see Jessica seated next to the dark haired girl she introduced as Hana, combing her blonde hair into a loose braid over a shoulder – a fishtail he is later told.

"Sorry?" He says, and the girls laugh.

"I was telling Hana about how we're all related." Jessica explains, a smug smile tugging at the corners of her mouth and he knows that she knows what he was just thinking. _Cousins._ He lets himself slump into he seat opposite the girls.

"Are you sure you got it right this time?" He cracks, remembering the last time they met and how she mixed up Lycoris and Regulus I while reciting the Black Family tree. Admittedly she was only nine at the time, and the two men _had_ been brothers with only two years between them.

"Hush cousin." She replies huffily and then continues to tell his newest cousin about an older cousin they shared (ignoring the fact that said cousin's mother had been disowned, and thus was no longer a Black) who was a metamorphmagus and had graduated from Hufflepuff the previous spring.

* * *

Not long after noon, a witch with a trolley full of snacks and sweets appears and the trio cheerfully purchase a large amount – even though Draco says that his mother will send him care packages, and promises to share it with them, the girls still buy a large amount of chocolates and squirrel them away in their trunks for later, just in case. They spend a good half an hour eating together and speculating on their future houses – "I'll be in Slytherin for sure," proclaims Draco, "All Malfoys have been." Jessica's sly, teasing mention of a Hortentia Malfoy being sorted into Hufflepuff a century or two back is pointedly ignored by the boy.

All too soon, Draco excuses himself to use the bathroom and retrieve his trunk, as he will be spending the journey with them rather than in his original compartment. The girls' wave goodbye and Jessica settles next to Hana, launching into a discussion on braiding – something they share in common is their love for intricate steels and Jessica is all-too-eager to teach her younger cousin new things. They busy themselves with discussing the difference between a regular braid versus a Dutch braid and how they can affect coiling methods. This might seem rather boring, but braiding is somewhat tricky to master and is a handy skill to know, especially among the higher social circles – a lady must always appear at her best Jessica says, winking slyly at her cousin who grins in return.

Somewhere along the line, the talk about braiding turns to gossip, which Hana is always eager to hear, because gossip is really just a nice way of saying 'I know lots about you (or somebody) and I can use it to my advantage'.

"Have you heard about Gringotts?" Jessica asks her, weaving a fine lace braid around the crown of Hana's head and pinning it in place. "Somebody tried to nick something from them. Got into the vault alright, but the thing they were after had already been moved."

"Who on earth would be mad enough to try and steal from Goblins?" Hana asks, stunned. She remembers Nori's little rant (read: major freak out) about her having been to a Goblin Bank with only a stranger and a single knife for protection.

"No idea – that's why it's so big. They didn't catch the bloke (or lady) who did it." Jessica explains, pulling a pocket mirror out of her pocket for Hana to look at her hair with. "Papa says whoever did it must have been really clever and very powerful in order to do it. Not just anybody could pull that off, even if they didn't succeed."

Just then, the compartment door slides open. The girls look up, expecting to see their cousin, but are instead met by a lanky red-haired boy with dirt on his nose. He grins at them, and flops down onto the opposite bench without so much as asking if it was okay to join them.

"Hello," The boy says.

"Hello." Hana replies quietly, looking to Jessica for help. Was it normal for people to act like this – everybody she has already met has had excellent manners.

"I'm Ron. Ron Weasley." The boy tells them, "Who are you?" He asks scratching at his ear, and it's rather rude how he does it so blatantly. Hana isn't really sure how to reply – and she certainly doesn't want to deal with another Girl-Who-Lived moment, so she keeps quiet. The compartment is silent for a moment and then the door slides open once more – this time it is Draco and Jessica gets up to help him put his trunk on the rack.

"Who're you?" Ron asks Draco in a rude tone, obviously feeling threatened.

"Malfoy," Draco tells him, "Draco Malfoy, and you are in my seat." He drawls. Ron flushes.

"A Malfoy?" He hisses, "My Dad's told me all about you lot."

"You're being dreadfully rude," Jessica scolds, and Ron looks between her and Draco, obviously just noticing the similarities in their looks.

"What – are you his sister or something?" Ron asks Jessica, leaning backwards as Draco takes a seat on the other side of Hana, who scooted toward the middle of the bench in order to make room for him.

"Cousin." Jessica replies, her eyes cooling to look like shards of ice.

"Jessica is a Lovelace." Draco tells the other boy, fingers inching towards his trouser pocket where his wand is tucked away.

"But great-grandmother Lucretia was a Black." Jessica adds proudly, "I have her eyes – Just like Grandma Hestia and Papa."

" _He_ has silver eyes, and he's a Malfoy." Ron says, pointing at Draco, who sighs, rubbing his forehead.

"Good lord, are you really that stupid? Malfoys have blue eyes – Draco takes after his Mum. She was a Black – all Blacks have silver eyes." Jessica snaps clearly irritated with the intruder.

(Later, Hana will ask Jessica about the eye-color-thing, and the blonde will explain how some of the old families spelled the traits into their blood in order to make things easier when the odd triad happened and they were unsure of which kids belonged to which father.)

"Ugh. A Black?" The redhead screws up his face in disgust.

"What's wrong with being a Black?" Jessica cries, drawing her wand and leveling it at the redhead who flinches.

"They're dark wizards – the lot of them. That's even worse."

"My grandma was a Black," Hana mumbles softly, curling in on herself and leaning against her older cousin, who puts his arm around her protectively. She wouldn't normally allow this, but they are family – no matter how distant and she knows it will only work in their favor should a Prefect come running. The Prefect will see three cousins standing up for each other in the face of a mean red-haired boy who has no manners – it's easy to know which side they will take. It's not like she's in a position to scare the boy into leaving, is she?

Ron is staring at them all in horror, backing away. Oh – would you look at that, he's ready to wet himself and nobody has even pulled a knife on him. What a wuss.

"Mad. The lot of you – I bet you all end up in Slytherin you slimy snakes." He cries, before bolting from the compartment, slamming the door behind him. They blink, and then Jessica flops down in the seat that Ron had just vacated.

"I don't know about you, but I _definitely_ don't want to be in the same house as him." Draco says after a moment of quiet, and then they are all laughing.

* * *

About an hour later, they receive a new visitor. Draco has gone off again – talking quietly with a boy called Zabini who looks Italian, and Hana swears that she heard them say something about 'smuggling' and 'broomsticks'. A round-faced boy with a disheartened expression knocks on the door. He looks as if he is about to cry, and Hana's heart goes out to him – even if Nori would disapprove.

"Sorry," he says, trying not to sniffle "but have you seen a toad at all?" Jessica and Hana share a look (A toad) and shake their heads. The boy looks devastated.

"I've lost him! He keeps getting away from me!" He wails mournfully.

"I'm sure he'll come back." Hana says, not really sure what one should say in a situation like this. Jessica tilts her head to the side. "Why don't you ask a Prefect to cast a locator spell?" She suggests.

"Not a Summoning?" Hana asks, having seen Elaine summon books off of high shelves on their last trip to Flourish and Blotts.

"Not if you don't want to run the risk of the toad flying into something and getting hurt. Summonings are best for non-living things, unless you have a direct line of sight." Jessica tells her, having been lectured on this many-a-time as a child and Hana nods. The toadless-boy just stare at them, looking terribly lost.

"Find a Prefect, and explain your toad has disappeared on you. They should be able to track him down. If you ask a Ravenclaw, and flatter them, they'll probably even conjure up a tank for him so you don't lose him again." Jessica tells the boy, who nods and sniffs a little before wandering off in search of a student with a shiny badge. He passes Draco in the corridor, and the blonde boy easily slides back into their compartment.

"What was that about?" He asks, wary seeing as how the last visitor was incredibly rude.

"Lost his toad." Jessica tells him, nonplussed. Draco snickers in response.

"He brought a _toad?_ Who _does_ that anymore?" Jessica shrugs, and whips out her wand, rhythmically rotating her wrist through he movements for the levitation charm. The door slides open once more, and the boy-without-toad is back, this time with a girl. The girl has honey eyes, and bushy, shoulder-length brown hair which could have been pretty if she deep conditioned, and allowed it to grow long enough to be weighed down. She's already wearing her robes – which are plain black, marking her as a fellow first year.

"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one," She asks, and Hana shares a look with Jessica. Hadn't they just done this?

"We've already told him we haven't seen it," Jessica says politely. However, the new girls' eyes are fixed on Jessica's wand.

"Are you doing magic?" She asks, "Won't you get in trouble?" Jessica blinks, caught off guard by the question.

"Muscle memory." Jessica explains to the brunette, "I'm teaching my body to relax and make my casting stronger."

"I've tried a few simple spells just for practice and it's all worked for me." The girl says, making herself at home on the seat opposite Draco. "Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard - I've learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough - I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you." She says it all so fast that Hana is amazed that she doesn't pass out from lack of breath.

"Jessica Lovelace," Jessica says, falling back on the manners her parents have drilled into her, "and these are my cousins, Hana and Draco Malfoy." She deliberately leaves Hana's last name out of the equation and implies she is a Malfoy too. The new girl – Hermione – has just admitted to being Muggleborn, so she won't realize the white lie. Toad-boy, No – Neville, shifts uncomfortably, obviously knowing there was no such person as Hana Malfoy, but does not say anything.

"It's lovely to meet you." Hermione says happily, not noticing the uncomfortable tension that has fallen over the compartment. "Do any of you know what house you'll be in?"

"You can never be sure, but I have my suspicions," Jessica says, winking at Draco. He grins back, and Hana laughs. But the hyperactive brunette is talking again.

"I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best; I hear Dumbledore himself was in it, and I don't want to go anywhere Slytherin – far too ark for my tastes, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad..."She trails off, looking at Draco, whose face has twisted into a nasty sneer. "I'm sorry, did I say something funny?"

"Please." He snaps. "Gryffindor is full of idiots. Not one of them stops to realize they aren't scared. Not being scared is not brave, it's stupid. Real bravery is carrying on when you want to run away." The brunette girl bristles.

"That's unfair," She protests. "You can't judge a whole house on the basis of one or two people."

"Oh?" Draco's eyes go cold. "You mean like how you just accused the whole of Slytherin of being dark? Rather hypocritical, don't you think?" The brunette girl draws herself up.

"Hardly. All the dark wizards have come out of there. That speaks for itself."

"That's not true," Jessica interjects. "Morgan le Fay, who later became the Queen of Avalon was from Ravenclaw, and Adaric Meliflua was in was a Healer who went dark after becoming obsessed with trying to save lives and ended up creating the Unforgivables instead." The brunette scoffs, and stands up opening the doors with a sharp motion.

"We'd better go and look for Neville's toad." She declares imperiously. "You had better change, you know, I expect we'll be there soon." And then she leaves with toadless-boy in tow. The cousins aren't sorry to see her go, and it shows.

"Whatever house I'm in, I hope she's not in it," Jessica says, glaring at the girls' back as she hurries away, and Hana nods in agreement. The pull down the blinds on the compartment window and the girls step outside to allow Draco to change into his uniform, before he does the same for them.

Hana smoothes down her skirt and tugs the soft new boots onto her feet. She tucks a tiny sheathed dagger into her sock, feeling comforted by the press of the hidden knife against her calf. It's barely the size of the silver dagger that came in her Potions kit, but even a tiny knife might help in a fight. Then Draco comes back in and the girls settle for undoing their hair and brushing it out before redoing it, and Jessica's suggestion for… back-combing? The top layer of her hair makes it have more volume.

All too soon, a voice is echoing through the train on some sort of magical PA system.

_"We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."_

The three of them pile their trunks on the floor of the compartment, pushed up against the window to ensure they will be seen, and leave the compartment – Jessica in the lead with Hana holding onto the back of her robes and Draco doing the same to Hana in order to not get separated by the rest of the student body in the chaos that the corridor had become. They weave through the crowd and stumble onto the platform, shivering in the cool night air. It might be the end of August, but it's still Scotland, and Scotland is cold. There is a large lantern bobbing high over their heads and Hana hears Hagrid's voice saying:

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here! C'mon, follow me - any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!" They follow the lantern (and Hagrid's voice) down a steep and winding path in silence, holding on tight to each other for balance.

"Ye' all get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid tells them in his loud, booming voice. "jus' round this bend here." They round the bend and find themselves on the shore of vast lake that sits at the base of a mountain, upon which sits-

"It's beautiful," Hana hears Jessica whisper. The castle is huge built with towers and turrets and lard, strong walls – the windows are lit and shine out against the night, their reflections glittering on the lakes surface.

"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid shouts loudly, waving his hand at a fleet of boats. The three cousins climb into a boat together, followed by a Scottish girl who introduces herself as Morag.

"Everyone in?" shouts Hagrid, who sits in a boat of his own. There is a consensus of agreement.

"Right then - FORWARD!" He cries, and then the boats shift underneath them, gliding off across the lake in perfect harmony. Nobody says a word, just watching as the castle grows closer and closer.

"Heads down!" Hagrid calls as they near a thick curtain of ivy and the first years do as they are told. Morag actually flattens herself against the side of the boat which Hana finds a little funny. Behind the ivy, is a long, dark tunnel which comes out into an underground harbor, where they climb out onto the rocky shore.

There is some kerfuffle as Neville finally finds his toad, who Hana secretly thinks should have been named Houdini rather than Trevor, and they follow Hagrid and his lamp up a passageway and onto a lawn in front of the castle, up a flight of ancient stone steps and to a large wooden door, upon which Hagrid knocks. The door swings open to reveal a tall, dark-haired witch with a stern expression on her face.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," Hagrid says, nodding to the witch. The witch returns the nod, and opens the door fully, allowing the first years to enter the hall – which is huge. Professor McGonagall leads them across the stone floor, and into a smaller chamber off the side of the hall. They huddle together, safety in numbers right?

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room." Professor McGonagall says, launching into what is obviously a rehearsed and often-used speech. She explains about the house-point system, and the different houses – all of which Hana has already learnt about from her cousins and the books she has read.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting." The Professor says, finishing her speech.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," The Professor says, leaving the chamber. They stand there in silence, barring Hermione who is whispering very quickly to anybody who will listen about all the spells she has learnt ahead of time, and which one will she need? Draco just sneers at the girl, and rolls his eyes. Jessica smiles at Hana and suddenly Hana has the feeling that they know something she doesn't. Hana forces herself to relax. If her cousins are not panicking, then she shouldn't either.

Then somebody screams behind her, and Hana whirls around in time to see… Ghosts. Actual, real ghosts are coming through the far wall. They glide across the room, completely ignoring any living person, completely immersed in their own conversation… or was it an argument? Hana tunes them out in favor of staring up at the large staircase they are stood next to. Then McGonagall is back, they fall into a line and follow her into the hall, which is lit by a thousand floating candles – the tables large enough to seat hundreds of student and are set with golden dinnerware.

Professor McGonagall leads them past the four student tables and up to the table at the end of the hall where the teachers are sat. Behind them, Hana can hear the bossy brunette from earlier whispering on about how the ceiling is enchanted, and when she looks up, for a moment Hana thinks there is no ceiling at all. The Professor sets down a small stool in front of the teacher's table and then upon that, she places a ragged, worn old hat. It looks _old_. A glance around tells Hana that everybody is staring at the hat, which makes little sense until a tear near the brim of the hat opens and then…

The hat… is singing. Well, she certainly hadn't anticipated this. It's a tad long-winded, explain how it will sort them while not really making much sense at all, but when it is done the hall starts to applaud anyway. The hat bows, actually bows to the four tables and then goes back to being motionless. Professor McGonagall steps forwards, a long piece of parchment in hand.

"Now, when I call your name, you will sit on the stool and place the hat on your head." She tells them, and begins to read.

Abbot, Hannah goes to Hufflepuff and is quickly followed by a red-haired girl (Bones, Susan); then Boot, Terry and Brocklehurst, Mandy go to Ravenclaw. A girl names Lavender Brown is the first to wear Gold and Scarlet – and Millicent Bulstrode is the first Slytherin. Hana shifts her weight from foot to foot as "Finch-Fletchley, Justin!" goes to Hufflepuff and watches a bouncy Irish lad be sorted into Gryffindor, as does the bossy bushy-haired girl from earlier that Draco had snapped at.

"Lovelace, Jessica" McGonagall calls, and Jessica bounces up to the stool, gracefully sitting down on the stool and tucking one ankle behind the other 'like a proper lady'. The hat sits neatly upon her blond curls for a few minutes before cheerily (and it looks like Jessica's temperament is contagious) trills "Ravenclaw~"

"MacDougal, Morag… Malfoy, Draco." Draco strides forwards, and true to his word – the Hat barely needs to touch his head in order to declare him a Slytherin. His robes change to green and silver, and he flashes a quick grin at her, and winks at Jessica before happily making his way to his house table.

"Moon… Nott… Parkinson… Patil, Patil" A pair of Indian twins go to different houses. Next comes:

"Perks, Sally-Anne" and then it is Hana's turn.

"Potter, Hannah." She has to suppress a scowl when her birth name is read out, because the entire hall is suddenly filled with whispers. Well there goes being under the radar. She steps forward and focuses on the stool, ignoring the whispers that follow her.

"Potter, did she say?" "Really? Hannah Potter?" "Did you see her face?" "Where's her glasses?" "Where's the _scar?_ " Then she is sitting down on the stool and Professor McGonagall is setting the hat on her head.

The hat slides over her ears, and then drops down over her eyes – blocking the Great Hall from view. There is a prodding feeling inside Hana's head and she shifts suddenly, panicking – the hat is reading her mind. She doesn't know how she knows this, but she doesn't have time to question that.

'Get out of my head,' she cries silently and the prodding feeling pauses, then a voice says. 'I'm only doing what I'm supposed to.'

'It feels strange though,' she protests stubbornly, because it does – it feels like somebody is trying to tickle her, but doesn't know how.

'Then how on earth do you expect to be sorted?' the Hat demands, and Hana thinks about it for a moment. 'You could ask me questions,' she suggests, after a moment, and a feeling of surprise that is not her own radiates through her.

'No, that won't do I'm afraid." The Hat tells her, and delves back into her mind – this time it feels much more gently and even though she doesn't like it, she can feel that it isn't actually doing her any harm.

'Do not be afraid,' the Hat promises when it comes across her memories of Nori, 'I am bound to silence. Not even the Headmaster can demand that I reveal what is in your thoughts.' At this, Hana relaxes.

'Hmm…' says the Hat. 'Loyalty is definitely one of your keenest traits, as is your determination. By all rights, you should go to Hufflepuff, but I don't think it would aid you. You already know how to be a Hufflepuff… Perhaps.'

'Perhaps what?' Hana asks.

'I rather think you would benefit most from another house,' The Hat tells her. 'Yes… I think so.' Hana feels the hat shift and knows that it has opened its' strange mouth widely. It's as if time is slowing down, she can feel the beat of her heart going ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum, and then –

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this is a day late – I spent all of Wednesday cleaning house and then fell asleep on my keyboard last night so Momma made me go to bed. Eta – I also have the first few hundred words of Chapter 8 typed up, so I won't be losing time on that.
> 
> My Tumblr has finally been rearranged into a much simpler format – so you can actually navigate it, yay~ Character pages for Hana, Jessica, Draco and Luna (long story) are up. Nori's will be going up this afternoon. I'll be piecing it together once this chapter is online. Arrowsbane dot Tumblr dot com. Go there~ It's a maaaagical place~
> 
> Let me say this first off – For those of you who don't like how Ron and Hermione were out of character, suck it up. I spent hours reviewing these scenes with several people and we all agreed that they were plausible. Ron was an eleven year old boy with a prejudice towards anything he considers dark (ie Malfoys) and he was rather annoyed that he accidentally tried to make friends with two girls from the Black family.
> 
> Second, Hermione tried to show off a tad, but at that age had very little social skills. She had neither the magical upbringing that would have taught her to try and anticipate the houses based on personality, nor enough information at the current point in time to fully formulate an argument. She was also a tad prejudiced because quite frankly, any books she will have been advised to buy will have been suggested by McGonagall, who is a firm Light-sided witch and all those books will have been written in favor of Light magic and wizards/witches.
> 
> On the Unforgivables. I'm personally choosing to go a different route than in Canon, because as always, an AU means that some things stay the same while many things change. In my version, the Cruciartus was originally meant to be for checking Nerve damage, but was twisted into a torture curse. The Imperio was meant to help subdue patients who were unable to remain motionless and the Avada Kadavra to end the suffering of those who could not be helped. This is not an original idea, I've seen it be used many times before but have no idea who originally used this so I am unable to give credit.
> 
> "_ During an audience interview at the Edinburgh Book Festival (15 April 2004), J. K. Rowling said: "Does anyone know where avada kedavra came from? It is an ancient spell in Aramaic, and it is the original of abracadabra, which means 'let the thing be destroyed.' Originally, it was used to cure illness and the 'thing' was the illness, but I decided to make it the 'thing' as in the person standing in front of me. I take a lot of liberties with things like that. I twist them round and make them mine."
> 
> "Crucio" means "I torture" in Latin, originating from crux (genitive crucis), which means "torture platform or stake", or more specifically, "cross". The word excruciating is descended from the same root — crucifixion was a form of torturous execution.
> 
> "Imperio" is a corruption of "Impero", Latin for "I command". _" ~ From Pottermore.
> 
> Moving on - Hana returns to Diagon Alley? Jessica told her how to get there and they wanted to meet up. Hana is rather independent. Hana buys stuff? Well, she is now very rich, and doesn't have much – of course she went and bought herself some nice things. Even at 11, retail therapy is very effective. Will Hana be stealing at Hogwarts? No, now that she knows she's got plenty of money there's no need to – well, except for moving people's shit around for shits and giggles. :3
> 
> Ah… Puppy Love. Isn't it adorable? Bear in mind that having come from a Pureblood family, Draco has been raised in a way that the thought of loving your second cousins in a non-family way is perfectly acceptable. Let's not forget that Orion and Walburga Black were second cousins. Besides, this is just puppy love – blame Kristina because she begged for it. Although I got her back by writing angst while drinking wine. She cried. A lot. It was a little bit funny actually.


	9. Eight

_For my remaining sanity. I don't know how, but we made it through the week. Barely._

* * *

“--Ravenclaw!” Crows the Hat and Hana looks down to see the lining of her robes turn sapphire and bronze. At the table, Jessica is grinning widely and Hana hands the hat back to Professor McGonagall (who looks like she’s just swallowed a lemon), before scampering off to sit with her cousin. The whole hall is buzzing in shock – they had all been certain she was destined for Gryffindor. But then, they had all thought she would be wearing glasses and have a scar on her forehead. Hana absently wonders what idiot had been feeding them this information, but pushes the thought from her mind as she slips into the space next to Jessica and sits down.

The sorting continues after a moment’s pause, in which Hana is subjected to numerous stares and more than a few upset faces from the Gryffindor table. Under the table, Jessica slips her hand into Hana’s and squeezes gently, reassuring her that it will all be okay. She looks over to the Slytherin House table and Draco catches her eye, winking at her and she relaxes. She can do this.

The rest of the night becomes a blur – dinner is amazing and Hana swears she’s never seen so much food in one place before. Then, they are sent off to bed – and Hana privately decides the Headmaster is more than likely a little mad after the way he addressed them. They climb up staircase after staircase (and they _move_ , isn’t that cool) all the way to where a bronze statue of an eagle sits upon a tiered dais, elevated a good foot or so off of the floor.

The Prefect leading them stands in front of it, explaining that it guards their common room and can only be passed by answering the riddle (‘ _No sooner spoken, than I am broken?_ ’), and then they are shooed through the room (full of towering bookcases, a roaring fire, a statue of a beautiful lady and bedecked with bronze and sapphire hangings) and up to their dorm rooms. Hana sticks close to her iraknana', her cousin, as they enter the room. There are five beds, hung with sapphire drapes and fashioned from polished bronze (old and carefully wrought), spaced evenly through the room; a large arched window with a window seat covered in plush looking cushions is opposite the door, its shape is concave, curved from the side of the tower.

Their trunks have already arrived Hana notices, seeing that her own is neighbor to Jessica’s and so she sits down on the bed she has been assigned and smiles. It feels… almost like home. She isn’t really sure what home feels like, but this is almost as good as when she’s Dreaming, and so that’s close enough.

The other girls giggle as they unpack their things, and exchange names – Padma Patil, Su Li, Mandy Brocklehurst – these will be her roommates for the next seven years. They talk among themselves until the conversation turns to Hana and how she ended up in Ravenclaw.

“I thought for sure you’d be in Gryffindor.” Mandy tells her and Jessica laughs.

“You and everybody else in that hall.” She says.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Mandy says, looking a little hurt.

“Everybody thinks they know me.” Hana says. “But look – no glasses, and my scar is on my collarbone.”

“You sound as if you don’t like people very much.” Su Li says, frowning in confusion.

“ _The wave sucks back and with the last of water, It wraps a wisp of seaweed round my legs_ ,” Hana quotes airily, pulling her nightclothes from her trunk and hanging her robes up on a hook behind her bedside table.

“ _And with the swift rush of its sandy dregs, So undermines my barefoot stand I totter,_ ” Jessica picks up, causing Hana to stumble for a moment, almost dropping her pajama bottoms in surprise before regaining her rhythm.

“ _And did I not take steps would be tipped over, Like the ideal of some mistaken lover._ ” They finish together, Hana pulling on her nightclothes and folding her school robes into a neat pile atop her trunk.

“You know Frost?” Hana asks eagerly, having only started to get interested in poetry that summer. Jessica laughs.

“Frost was a wizard.” She tells Hana laughingly, and Hana goggles.

“I don’t get it.” Mandy says as Hana gathers her comb and sets a small glass dish on her bedside table.

“Ever since I walked into Diagon Alley, all anybody has done when they see me is fuss over the Girl-Who-Lived. Everybody seems to know all about me, but they don’t know anything. I don’t want to be ‘the great Hannah Potter’ or whatever. I just want to be me. Hana” She says, waving her arms around as she speaks, before flopping down to sit on the edge of her bed. She works the beads from her hair and carefully undoing her braids and brushing them out with her comb.

Her new dorm mates are silent for a moment, and then –

“I can kind of understand,” Padma says slowly, tilting her head to one side, “You don’t want people trying to befriend you because of what they’ve heard. You want people to want to be your friends because they like you.” Hana nods, dropping her beads onto the glass dish and setting down her comb.

“That’ pretty much it,” She agrees, settling into the large comfy bed and pulling the quilt up over her. It’s soft and warm and she has to make an effort not to sigh in sheer bliss. The conversation then turns to lighter subjects – Padma tells them what it is like to live in India and Su Li giggles as she tells them about her maternal uncle and his mad exploits. Slowly but surely, Hana drops off to sleep.

* * *

Nori is waiting for her when she falls asleep and catches her when she springs forward, almost crashing into him. He settles them on the floor and she twists her fingers into his beard, happily snuggling into his arms.

“Good day?” He asks her, knowing full well what day it is for her. She grins at him, and starts telling him everything.

“—and Jessica introduced me to Draco, she says he’s our iraknadad, and he’s really quite nice. Bit formal, and he puffs up like a kitten when we tease him, but he still pretty cool.” He nods through it all, happy because she is happy.

“—and the chocolate frogs actually act like real frogs,” She says, and it’s like she’s eight years old again 0 full of wonder and joy, before she realized just how cruel the world could be.

“What exactly is chocolate?” Nori asks, she’s mentioned it more than once over the years, but never really explained it. Hana stops halfway through describing the great hall and stares at him.

“What? How do you not know what chocolate is?” She cries, looking justly horrified.Nori shrugs, clearly as lost as she is in this moment. She does her best, explaining that it has milk and sweetness, but how do you describe chocolate to somebody? What can you compare it too? In the end, she just resolves to give him some the next time they Dream and he acquiesces to her request.

* * *

The first week is full of staring and whispers. Everywhere Hana goes, people are watching her, judging her, gossiping. Sometimes she wants to scream. Everybody wants to see her, everybody wants to be her friend, but nobody really means it. Not really. Sometimes she feels alone in a crowded room.

If she didn’t have Jessica and Draco there to be a buffer, Hana thinks that she might drown in the chaos that is the student body. Hogwarts contains a hundred and forty-two staircases, all of which are different. It has doors that are wall, and walls that are doors, and some doors that only open if you ask nicely, or have a password. It’s enough to make her head spin.

The classes are unusual – Astronomy is solely practical and happens late at night. More than once, Hana has to shake herself awake. It’s fun to map the skies though and Hana enjoys Jessica’s stories about the different constellations. Being a descendant of the Black family, Jessica knows every story.

Herbology is easily Hana’s favorite class. She loves the feel of earth between her fingers, it makes her feel grounded. She hates the History class though, Professor Binns makes her fall asleep every time simply just from his voice. His life must have been infinitely boring Hana thinks, if he could die and not notice. All he ever seems to do is drone on about Goblin Rebellions.

Transfiguration is… focused. McGonagall doesn’t tolerate fools lightly and Hana spends most of her time in the class keeping her head down and getting on with her work. McGonagall might be able to turn herself into a cat, but that doesn’t mean Hana is likely to get away with offering her catnip in place of homework. Professor Quirrel is a wash out, and the Ravenclaws all agree that Defense Against the Dark Arts is a joke. They quickly form a study group to teach themselves after the disaster of a first lesson – pestering the older students for advice when they need it.

Potions, however, is taught down in the dungeons – far away from their other classes. It is colder down there, and damp – and the classroom is lined with strange glass jars, full of colored liquid and pickled animals. Snape, like McGonagall is not one to suffer fools, and he makes it very clear the moment they enter the laboratory.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he tells them, his voice soft but firm. Nobody dares to whisper. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic.

“I do not expect that you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses.... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death -- if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

"Potter!" Snape snaps out. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" Hana blinks, surprised.

"I don't know, sir," She replies, “I don’t think I got that far in the book.” She admits. Snape eyes her, and then says:

"If I were to ask you where to find a bezoar Potter, where would you look?" He asks her and Hana tilts her head.

“Um… If I was in class, I would look in the Potions store,” She says, thinking it over, “But if you wanted one from the source, I believe they are found in Goat’s stomachs.” Snape nods approvingly.

"For future reference Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death." He says and Hana nods, writing it down so she can look it up later. Snape watches her with a gimlet eye, before splitting the class of Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs into pairs and sets them to work on a potion to cure boils. Snape might be a bit tough, but Hana finds that she actually likes the Potions classes.

* * *

Autumn comes, and with it the leaves turn to red, orange, brown and gold and carpet the ground in an array of color. The air is colder now, and the north wind brings a promise of snow in the coming months. People have finally stopped whispering every time Hana enters a room or walks past them and for that she is grateful. Flying lessons are scheduled, but Hana balks at the thought. She’s been afraid of heights ever since Dudley pushed her off the top of the playground tower when they were five and she broke her arm. Jessica promises that it will be fun – the girl has practically grown up on a broomstick, but Hana is not easily persuaded.

Among her year mates, a new fashion has appeared – telling stories about flying. Draco brags incessantly about his prowess until Jessica hexes him and they spend a good ten minutes trying to escape from his rather silly attempt of revenge. The red-haired berk who insulted them on the train swears that he almost hit a hang glider once while Padma primly says that while she can ride a broom, she much prefers her Uncles flying carpet, which they use whenever the visit their family in India.

The Ravenclaws take their flying lesson with the Hufflepuffs and Hana feels like it is a disaster. She spends the entire time clinging to the broom with a grip that is stronger than a kraken, and her eyes screwed closed. The funny thing about it is that she never moves more than three feet away from the ground. Eventually Madam Hooch takes pity (which is really more of an exasperated sigh and rolling her eyes) and lets the poor girl shakily dismount. The ensuing scene in which the small girl flattens herself against the ground, twisting her fingers into the grass and mumbling about how she’ll never leave its loving safety ever again is ignored.

(Such a shame – her father had been an excellent Chaser; she must have take after her mother who was practically famous for her dislike of brooms.)

A week or so later, the hourglass for Gryffindor is missing a large number of points. Three students – Neville Longbottom, Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley were caught out of bed down the charms corridor. Longbottom got off lightly due to the fact that he had been in the hospital wing and nobody had told him about the change of password, but Granger and Weasley lost their house one hundred points apiece. Draco looks rather smug about it and when Hana asks, she discovers that her cousin had challenged Weasley to a midnight duel, but chosen to send Filch after him instead. The fact that Granger had been there too was just icing on the cake.

In the few short months that they are at school, Jessica’s bipolar wand (as they have taken to calling the dratted thing) manages to successfully destroy three throw pillows, an armchair, a desk, singe off a sixth year’s eyebrows and turn Su Li’s transfiguration notes invisible – nobody is really sure how, and so Jessica copies her own notes in order to placate the Asian girl. Hana finds the entire thing more than a little amusing, especially as how Draco’s hair ends up green, and even though she swears she wasn’t giggling (she was), Draco ends up pouting for three full days before Professor Flitwick is able to undo the spellwork.

Halloween is drawing closer and Hana and Jessica are looking forward to a chance to restock their chocolate supplies. The halls are filled with the wonderfully enticing smell of baked pumpkin and the first years are excited because Professor Flitwick has finally decided to move onto levitation charms, after reminding them to pronounce their spells properly and including an amusing anecdote about a wizard and a buffalo.

The Ravenclaws share their lessons with the Gryffindors and Hana usually spends it pretending that she can’t hear Granger’s persistent act of being Teacher’s Pet. (The girl has taken to following her around the library at a distance and watching which books she chooses before angrily scurrying off muttering about her choices of reading material.)

When Flitwick pairs them up to practice the levitation charm, Hana happily high fives her cousin and they set to work immediately. Hana gets it after a few tries, and while Jessica also succeeds – her wand throws a hissy fit and sets the poor feather they had been practicing with on fire, something which catches the attention of the Irish Gryffindor boy who promptly swears his undying love for Jessica in front of the entire class, most of whom find it rather amusing. Jessica glowers at him and turns his hair blue, which instead of being a deterrent, only encourages the boy more.

At the next table over, Granger and Weasley are demonstrating why they should never be paired together for schoolwork. The redhead is waving his arms wildly as he shouts the spell loudly – getting the pronunciation all wrong.

"You're saying it wrong," Granger snaps at him. "It's Wing-gar-dium Levi-o-sa, make the 'gar' nice and long."

"You do it, then, if you're so clever," He snarls at her angrily. Granger rolls up her sleeves, flicks her wand gracefully and intones the spell, which works perfectly, and the feather soars to a good four feet above them. Weasley glowers when Flitwick begins to praise his unwanted partner.

Needless to say, Weasley is in a foul mood by the end of the lesson, and he barges past Hana on the way out of the classroom loudly criticizing Granger and rudely reminding everybody about just how few friends the girl has. There is a sob, and then Granger too is pushing past her, disappearing down the hall into the nearest bathroom. Hana might not like the girl too much, but she doesn’t approve of Weasley’s treatment either, and hexes him when she gets the chance – watching him fall over when his shoelaces suddenly tie themselves together brings a small smile to her face.

The day passes quickly and the Halloween Feast is tonight. Hana ducks as she enters the hallway, a thousand bats soar through the open air of the Great Hall and even more move from roost to roost in clouds of dark shadows. The candles flicker and flutter and the pumpkins glow from their inner light.

The food is amazing, great pies and tarts cover the tables and the meats are cooked to perfection. The pumpkin juice has never felt more appropriate that it does on this night. Hana laughs and chatters with her dorm mates, and when Jessica decides to go to the bathroom, Hana goes with her and together they scamper down the halls, giggling – almost delirious with happiness. The bathroom door swings open with a wild clatter and Hana settles herself atop one of the dry sinks to wait while Jessica attends to her business. Jessica is just turning off the tap and drying her hands when they hear a sniffle and suppressed sob.

“Is someone there?” the blonde girl asks.

“Go away.” Granger’s voice comes from the nearest cubicle. It would be wrong to leave the other girl behind, even if she is a bit of an annoying know-it-al, and so they set about persuading the brunette to come back to the feast with them. They’re just managing to get her to come out of the stall she’s ensconced herself in when Hana notices something strange – the air smells foul.

"Can you smell something?" She asks the others and Jessica frowns.

“Gods, what _is_ that?” She says. There is a grating noise, like something heavy been dragged across stone and then a rhythmic thud – like something large is walking down the corridor on the other side of the door. There is a beat, and then suddenly there is no door. It shatters into a thousand pieces and they shove Hermione back into the stall and follow her, huddling together on the floor.

Beneath the door to the stall, they can see large grey feet, feet with horns in place of toenails, feet that belong to no human – certainly two foot long each. Hana pushes at Jessica’s shoulder, and indicates the next stall over. The three girls’ belly-crawl under the partition and into the next stall, and the next after that until they are pressed against the far wall, too scared to make a sound.

Then the stall at the end of the row shatters, and Granger lets out a tiny cry of shock. The owner of the great grey feet obviously heard her, because it starts to smash up the next stall and the next. Hana peeks out from under their stall and has to suppress a gasp. The creature is nearly twelve feet tall, and is set on smashing apart the stalls and their contents. She tugs on Granger’s sleeve and the three of them take advantage of its distraction and quietly creep out from the stall and around the creature.

They’ve almost made it to the other side and are about to make a break for the door when the creature turns. It bellows and lumbers forwards, swinging its giant club and Hana is separated from the others. The creature turns on Jessica and Granger, who are hurriedly backing up against the wall and Hana panics. She takes a running leap and launches herself onto the creatures back.

“Run,” she cries, and Jessica drags Granger around the troll, which gives and almighty heave and sends Hana flying. She tucks her body into a roll, trying to soften to blow, but it still hurts when she hits the floor. Jessica finally reacts, raising her wand, but before she can say anything, the bipolar wand does the job for her. There is a flash of light, and then the club in the creature’s grip soars into the air, before coming down upon its head with an almighty crack.

The creature sways, before landing flat on its face, making the floor shake violently. The three girls stare at it in silence for a number of minutes, trying to slow their breathing until Jessica yanks Hana to her feet and starts to check she isn’t hurt too badly.

"Is it… dead?" Granger asks tentatively, and Jessica snorts.

“It’d take more than a club to kill a mountain troll” She tells them, still looking Hana over for any major hurts. There is a clatter as Professor McGonagall (followed by Professors Snape and Quirrel) comes rushing into the room, almost tripping over the debris that had once been the door. Quirrel takes one look at the troll and almost faints, while McGonagall turns on the trio of first years, her face contorted into a furious expression.

"What on earth were you thinking of?" demands Professor McGonagall, her voice is like ice. Hana blinks, turning to Granger, who looks as lost as she feels.

"You're lucky you weren't killed. Why aren't you in your dormitory?"

“What on earth are you talking about?” Jessica asks weakly, shaking as she slides down the wall and onto the floor.

“Why would we be in our dorms?” Hana adds, her own knees giving out and setting her down next to her older cousin.

“Because of the troll you silly girls.” McGonagall thunders furiously. “Why didn’t you do as the Headmaster ordered?”

“Oh,” Hana says. “I think we missed that part. We only came in here because Jessie had to go.”

McGonagall stares at them.

“Do you mean to tell me,” She says slowly, “That none of you were at the feast when Professor Quirrel came to warn us?”

The three girls share a look and then nod slowly. McGonagall lets out a strangled noise of frustration and starts muttering about Prefects and reassessments.

“You were incredibly lucky.” She finally tells them, looking as if she’s aged a good few years. “Not many first years could have taken on a full-grown mountain troll. Professor Dumbledore will be informed of this. You may go." The cousins wait until McGonagall ushers Granger out of the bathroom, and then bolt for Ravenclaw tower, barely stopping to breathe until they reach the guardian ( _I'm the part of the bird that's not in the sky. I can swim in the ocean and yet remain dry, what am I?_ ) and are safe in their Commons.

* * *

“What do you mean a troll?” Nori cries, when she tells him what has happened that night. Hana shrugs.

“It’s not like we meant to.” She protests. “It went after us.”

“That doesn’t mean you needed to jump on its back.” He tells her, his voice sounding strangled. “You could have hidden, you could have run away.”

“Where could we hide? It was one room, with wooden cubicles and the troll was between us and the door.” She argues, and he pulls her into his arms. If he is shaking, she ignores it.

“It turned away from me to go after Jessica and Hermione.” She whispers, tucking herself into his side. “I couldn’t just leave them” Nori buries his face in her hair, his arms tightening around her again.

“I know Khajmel, I know.” He says and Hana buries her face into his shoulder, shivering. The events of the night have begun to catch up to her and she is finally beginning to shake from the fear. She is a child, not a grown warrior, forged in battle and tempered in war.

* * *

 He must have fallen asleep by the fire; Nori realizes when he comes to that morning. He’s spent the night teaching Hana how to sharpen the new set of knives he’d given her a just a week ago - after the debacle of what she calls Halloween (apparently it’s very similar to Gabashzudnamrâg) at that insane school of hers. Next time, and he knows there will undoubtedly be a next time (because it’s Hana for crying out loud, when do crazy things _not_ happen to her?), she’ll at least have proper weapons – not the pint-sized ones she’s been content to use for the past year or two. There’s a shiny new dagger that he’s honed to perfection tucked into a sheath she’s sewn into the side of her boots – the girl wears them _everywhere_ , and Nori privately wonders if she sleeps in them.

Nori groans, shifting his weight and instantly regretting his choice of bed when he feels the sharp tingles in his toes that have long since gone numb. There’s a stifled snicker from the other side of the room and Nori’s ear twitches - that doesn’t sound like Ori. He rolls over and forces his eyes to open, ignoring the soreness in his muscles that protests and he props himself up on his arms. Ori is there after all, but he’s joined by the princeling, Finri? Fifi? The younger brother, the one who wants to be an archer one day is there too, Nori never bothers remembering their names.

With a groan, he heaves himself to his feet, stretches, and blearily makes his way across the room, intending to start the morning with a stern mug of kafee. He’s halfway there, just about to pass the dinner table when his foot catches on something, and then he is falling, arms out in front to catch himself. There is a clatter as several buckets turn onto their sides atop the table. Milk and water gush across the table surface (thank goodness the bread is on a raised board) and Nori groans, resting his forehead on his arms. What in the name of Mahal had the boys been thinking, setting a tripwire across the room like that?

He’s just pushing himself up off of the floor when he feels the tricky of something viscous on the back of his neck, and ick – it’s going down his back now. What is it? He blinks through bleary eyes up at the table and realizes Dori must have gotten the honey out to have with the new loaf….

Honey… Oh please no. He climbs to his feet and stands there, covered in the sticky treat. It’s in his _hair_ for crying out loud, this will take ages to clean. Nori swears. Loudly. But the lads are already gone.

* * *

November passes in cold simplicity. Frost coats the grounds and ice forms of the window panes of Ravenclaw tower, tracing delicate patterns through the frozen rain. The mountains that surround the valley in which Hogwarts sits are painted grey and the lake turns stormy, reflecting the winter sky above.

She and Jessica spend most of their free time with Draco, enjoying the security that can only come from knowing that blood is thicker than water and that the blood between them is shared. Granger, now Hermione has become a tentative acquaintance since the Troll incident (they are wary of calling her friend) and the girls sometimes study with the Gryffindor, who happily teaches them how to conjure flames of the brightest sapphire and their dorm is now decorated with strings of glass lanterns that are filled with the gentle fire. Draco’s eyes grow cold whenever she is mentioned and point blank refuses to keep company with the muggleborn girl (it is only out of deference to Hana’s own mother that he does not use a fouler word) but it does not stop them from seeing her, truly she should have been in their dorm yet sheer determination to follow after Professor McGonagall lead her to wear scarlet and gold.

Quidditch season is in full swing, and Hana clings desperately to Jessica whenever they climb the staircases that lead up to the tall boxes. She still refuses to learn to fly, even with Draco’s promises of keeping her safe – the boy has taken her fear of heights as a challenge and is determined to be her teacher. The boxes may unnerve her, and the wind buffeting the sides may scare her, but Hana enjoys the matches all the same simply for the commentary – Lee Jordan is a Gryffindor Third Year, and Hana has never met him, but she finds him amusing, especially when he has to dodge McGonagall’s stern glares.

Life goes on, and Hana is happy with her lot. The homework isn’t easy as math, but it’s still fascinating and with every new spell learned Hana feels better about herself. She has magic, and she can use it. The library is amazing – filled with books and tomes and scrolls, some that are over a hundred years old. She eagerly scours it, looking for any information on dreams, but eventually resorts to picking out little bits of lore from her housemates. She’s like a bird with a worm, and she’s glad Nori’s taught her how to gather information discreetly. Without him, she’d probably be blundering around like a blindfolded duck on crack. So far all she’s learned is that dreams fall under the category of Divination, but it’s a start.

* * *

It is early morning and freezing cold - Iklaladrân is here and the winter sun is barely peeking over the horizon. Nori is just slipping back into Thorin’s Halls after a long trek home. Ideally he should have slept last night and then made the last leg of the journey that morning, but he is homesick and wants to sleep in his own bed for once. He keeps to the shadows as he makes his way through the stone city towards his family’s halls.

A loud crash makes him jump, having been on edge ever since somebody tried to knife him a few weeks ago, then come hurried footsteps – and they’re coming towards him. Nori swears under his breath as he is almost knocked off of his feet by two dwarflings. After a moment, he realizes it is the Princes. (Spawn of Morgoth he calls them mentally – the little shits. He’s never quite forgiven them for the incident with the honey, he doesn’t care what Ori says, he _knows_ it was them.)

He glowers at them for a moment before going pale. If they are here, running around at this hour, then it means that Dwalin is not far behind, trying to wrangle them into their morning training session that they were assigned after causing havoc during a rather important trades meeting the month before – something about a feeding a rather large pig they had found in the woods to the point where it had followed them home. The blasted thing had gotten into the halls without anybody noticing… that is of course until it had made its way into the kitchen. The cooks had taken one look and decided upon having pork for dinner that night.

 _Fuck_ , he thinks. The last thing he needs is Dwalin catching him on his way home. The princes blink up at him, before turning to each other. A look is shared and Nori feels his stomach drop. Giving Nori up might just distract Dwalin from their punishment – Mahal knows that he’s been after a way to arrest the Thief for long enough, ever since he managed to worm his way out of the last near-arrest.

Nori eyes the princes warily. They wouldn’t… would they? They grin, and Fíli (Nori knows his name now) opens his mouth, and Nori’s hand is covering his mouth in a flash.

“Wha’ will it take for ye’ to keep hush?” Nori asks him, eyes darting to the end of the gloomy hall where he can hear Dwalin stomping ever closer. Fíli’s eyes flicker over him and meet his brother’s once again before looking back to the red-haired dwarf. He points to the pair of daggers belted at Nori’s hip.

Nori frowns. He likes those daggers, they were of a good make, and he had nicked ‘em off a merchant who was trying to con a poor farmer into buying a barrel of half-rotten seeds a few years back… but the footsteps are getting closer and so he weighs his options. With a single deft movement he unbuckles the belt from his middle and hands it to the brat who takes it cheerily.

Nori doesn’t know what the prince is looking so happy about – it’s not like he knows how to use them. There’s a hand on his arm and his fingers jump to a concealed set of throwing knives before he realizes it’s the dark-haired prince tugging him backwards down the hall, away from the sound of Dwalin’s cursing. He follows wearily as the princes lead him left, right, down a set of hewn stone steps, left, left again until he realizes they’ve lead him home.

He nods his thanks to them and they scamper off down yet another corridor and into the gloom. Nori sighs as he lets himself in – the princes have _way_ too much energy he decides as he hangs his cloak up on a peg near the door and walks into his bedroom, shucking his shirt as he goes. He tosses it on the floor, something else to think about later.

Nori flops on his bed with a sigh and rubs his face with the palm of his hand before rolling over to lie face-down in his pillow and vaguely tugging his blanket over his back. His feet aren’t covered, but that’s okay because he can’t be arsed to take off his boots.

At least it’s Ibriznurt, he thinks to himself. Hana sleeps in late on Ibriznurt, which means he might get an hour or two with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: Scene Switcheroo. Thank goodness ptl4ever419 (on FFN) was on the ball. She noticed a major mistake I had made. The Honey scene was one of my misc scenes that I copied and pasted in, but I put it in the wrong place. It has now been shifted to its proper place AFTER Halloween.
> 
> Heads up – The ‘Now is the Time’ post on my tumblr has nothing to do with this, but Arrowsbane is my personal Tumblr… and there is currently a huge verbal war going on with my main gaming site, hence the reblogging. I took offense to the user in question calling my namadith rude names.
> 
> Poem: On Being Idolized by Robert Frost
> 
> Hana isn’t playing Quidditch? Oh no! The Shock! The Horror! Oh… wait. She’s just afraid of heights. I guess that means she’ll need some help for her get past this. *winks* 
> 
> I’ve been reading through all the Hobbit Interviews in order to give me more to work with in building the characters in my mind and I love how every dwarf-actor was asked the same question: “Do you think small?” Adrian Turner (Kíli) really summed it up with “We don’t feel small, and that’s the mission statement for the dwarves. They are small but they don’t feel it. They’re only four-foot-something, but pack a serious punch. But when they hold up a tennis ball about two meters high for Gandalf’s head, you’re just of, ‘Holy mother of God...’”  
> It’s rather how I imagine Hana to view height. She’s not short – everybody else is just annoyingly tall. Mark Hadlow’s (Dori) answer had me in stitches though. “No way, we’re Peter Jackson’s Inglorious Basterds – and we don’t need Brad Pitt. We’ve got Jimmy Nesbitt...”
> 
> Competition  
> I’m actually quite enamored with Riddles and as such, I’ll be pulling the riddles I use for the passwords from my personal collection – Yes, I collect riddles as a hobby. I used to host a Riddle competition when I was completing my Radio Qualification in 6th form. I’ll start with easy ones and progress to harder ones as I go – but those who can correctly answer the riddles (shoot me a PM, or an email if you are a guest – my email is Arrowsbane1994 at gmail dot com) will receive 5 points each. I’ll keep score on my tumblr and at the end of every month, I’ll total the points and those with the highest point may choose between three options – 1) Ask me any question, and receive a completely honest answer. Spoilers included. 2) Request a specific HP event be worked in, 3) Feature as a cameo.
> 
> Glossary  
> Iraknana' - Cousin [Female, Singular]  
> Iraknadad – Cousin [Male, singular]  
> Iraknanna' – Cousins [Female, Plural]  
> Iraknaddad – Cousins [Male, Plural]  
> Ibriznurt - Sunday. It is the 3rd day of the Dwarrow week, which starts on Abkân-nurt (Friday)  
> Gabashzudnamrâg - Treasures of the Land Fest / Harvest Fest  
> Injamadrân – Autumn. Approx October; Starts on the first day of the 12th month ('afakrâgyan).  
> Iklaladrân – Winter.  
> ‘afdehar – “Anvil Moon” 1st month of the Dwarrow year.  
> ‘afdush – “Darkness Moon” 2nd month of the Dwarrow year.  
> ‘afiglêb – “Speaking Moon”; 3rd month of the Dwarrow year.  
> 'afakrâgyan - "Double Praise Moon"; The 12th month of the Dwarrow year. 
> 
> Facts  
> Injamadrân lasts either 1 or 2 months (depending if the year consists of 12 or 13 months). The Treasures of the Land Fest (Harvest Fest), which starts at the last day of the 12th month marks the years end for 12 years out of each 19 year cycle. In such years The Dwarven New Year and Durin's Day (Longbeards) occur within the harvest fest.  
> An interesting fact is that Samhain/Halloween was traditionally the Pagan New Year, which lines up with the Dwarrow new year, Durin’s Day. It’s not perfect, but they are very close.
> 
> On Languages  
> Some people have a natural gift for languages, others do not. Over the years I have attempted to learn a second language many times (French, Chinese, Spanish, Japanese, Italian) and discovered something - I do not have the ability to learn a language, I simply cannot seem to absorb a second dictionary. I am however, very good at conjugation, syntax, grammar ect and understanding how to build phrases. Give me a dictionary and a few base lessons and I can translate anything. Seriously – It’s like a jigsaw for me. Thus, take it from me when I say that a commonality I have noticed is that when a group of mixed genders is referred to, they are referred to using the male plural. Like how the race of humans is called Mankind, when though it is made up of both men and women, ergo I will be doing the same with Khuzdul. So if Hana is referring to her cousins as a group, she will call them ‘iraknaddad’ (even though she has more female cousins than male). If Draco (or any other male cousin) isn’t included, then she will address them by their gender and call them iraknanna’.


End file.
